Follow The Cat!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

A short story told in poetic form.

Submitted: July 17, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 17, 2017



Follow The Cat!


He’s there in my garden, he beckons me on,

the cat with the oh, so wide grin;

I’m outside and running and chasing his tail,

an adventure is sure to begin.


Hang on now, Cheshire, let me catch up,”

I shout as he reaches his goal;

now I can see it, I make like a rabbit

and dash straight inside that big hole.


Back now in Wonderland, what a delight,

so bright that my senses do spin,

I’ll take a deep breath, get ready my mind

for the craziness hidden within.


The flowers they giggle and gossip away,

I’m amused by their incessant chatter,

but here I can’t linger, I follow the Cat

as he leads me straight to the Mad Hatter.


Good morning, good morning. It’s such a good night,”

he laughs as I dash in to view.

The March Hare and I are having some tea

but we’ve space for a guest such as you!”


The lid it lifts up while the tea is poured out,

Who is that, who's moving my house?”

For this teapot is home for one that is small,

say, ‘Hello’ to the Sleepy Dormouse.


They chatter away, sipping this, chewing that,

and pure nonsense is what they do spout;

but the clues will be there if I listen for them,

the problem I’m soon to find out.


The Queen’s not herself, she’s become somewhat ill,

she is acting like she is a pauper;

dressing in rags, her wealth tossed away,

not behaving like royalty oughta!


The pavement does sparkle with glittering jewels

that lay there amidst so much gold.

I gather them up as I walk along but

there’s too much for my small hands to hold.


And there is the Palace, it’s looking so dark,

I’d not thought that it could appear gloomy;

the King’s not in sight but there is the Queen,

looking really ‘disaster and doom’y.


Never a beauty, she’s looking so old,

all unwashed and wrinkled and creased;

I put down the jewels, study her face,

I’ll stay here ‘til the problem has ceased.


There is a glass, a drink it does hold,

it resonates with a slight hum;

I know who’s behind this, the guilty pair,

twins Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.


I put out the word and the guards gather round,

they will go out and find the accused;

they’ll bring them straight back here, rapidly quick,

for they are Guards and will not be refused.


The two boys look shifty, lower their heads,

mumble ‘Sorry’, confess to their guilt;

the Queen, so enraged, shouts, “Off with their heads!”

and Wonderland then starts to tilt.


The furniture’s moving, we all start to stumble,

things rattle and crash to the floor;

the whole world’s rebelling against the Queen’s wrath,

an idea pops up – I’m not sure.


A more fitting punishment, Queen, if I may,

is to set these two some sort of task.”

And what, pray, is that?” She gives me a scowl,

back to wearing her so regal mask.


Send them to pick up all of your jewels,

all your valuables, all of your gold.

You’ve plenty of soldiers to keep a good watch

and make certain they do as they’re told.”


Tweedle Dee looks astounded – to be made to work,

Perhaps he would rather be dead?

Tweedle Dum shrugs his shoulders, resigned to his fate,

for he’s rather attached to his head.


A party is called for, the Queen’s now herself,

the King’s back from where he was hiding;

I’m happy to say that I stayed for a while,

having fun while my time I was biding.


But here now is Cheshire, he’s taking me home,

I’ll leave with a smile and a wink;

the crazy kaleidoscope pulls me along

and I’m back home as soon as I blink.


Am I now sad? Well, yes, in a way

but I know that some time I’ll go back;

for as mad as it is, as crazy insane,

I’ll be called on to get it on track!

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