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The Cunning Cat

A cunning, cheeky, 
chubby cat once walked -
With clothes and charms quite 
bold and dauntless speech;
His sense about the folk 
with whom he’s talked
Was joined by class and 
many skills to teach.
Though living with his 
peers of fur and paw
Was not without its 
conflicts or its strife,
The chatty, cagey fowl 
would really draw
His ire - which then 
disturbed his peaceful life.
Inside that flock did 
dwell a certain bird -
A mother hen with 
quite a raucous call;
She drowned out all 
dissenting, chicken words -
From in the group, 
or anywhere at all.

But though this flock 
possessed a leader hen -
A fuller figured, 
foremost bird of brown,
Her domineering, 
forceful role would then 
Be challenged by her 
fellow flock in town.
“Her baking leaves 
quite much in skill to be 
Desired” a quite slender 
hen of white
Does whisper in her 
chicken group of three –
Her gossip is a quite 
unseemly sight.
“She doesn’t mend or 
stitch her family’s clothes –
In spite of what she says 
in contrast to
Our queries” says the 
hen whose figure’s shows
Her blackened plumes – 
and shortness in her crew.

“That might be so my dear 
but she does not
Enjoy critique” the 
older hen of grey 
Replies. ”I think 
concerning her we ought
To give her yet another 
chance today.”
“You do no favors to 
your friend, your flock 
Or to this town” the 
feline then declares.
“And at some point, 
you’ll surely need to talk
About the scorn she 
hides in her affairs.

The youngest hen of 
white replies “What do
You know of it?  She is 
well known inside 
Our village from prestige 
she did accrue.”
The hens did nod at what 
they claimed they knew.
“Don’t say I did not 
warn you” quips the cat
And waves his paw while 
walking towards the street.
The group of hens quite 
cross right where they sat – 
Still full of all their 
anger’s latent heat.
The days did pass as 
all the loyal hens
Did follow right behind 
their leader fowl.
While doing chores or 
crafting there as friends,
They made their gossip 
vocal on the prowl.
These ventures did 
continue for a time -
Until on quite a fateful 
day their chief
Was absent from their 
meal in midday’s prime;
The searching hens did find 
her through their grief.
They saw her with a 
lady duck of white,
To their dismay - outside 
her home to make 
Some lively chat; This 
gave them all a fright -
And made their ruffled, 
chicken feathers shake.
“They’ll wait for me 
inside the cottage of 
That aging crone” 
the mother hen intones.
“They have not much 
to do and surely love
Me more than talking 
to a pile of bones.
“They cannot measure 
up to all the style 
You bring – as both 
your garments and my skill
With cloth attests” she 
blusters with a smile
And joins the hen in
laughter from her bill.
Dejected then, the 
flock of hens retreat
To sit inside the 
cottage as they wait.
Their mother hen brings 
paltry food to eat
But still receives a 
most appealing plate.
While plating all 
the food with eager aid
From younger birds, 
a rapping on the door 
Is heard – the aging hen 
soon finds is made
With knocking by the 
feline from before.

“What brings you here, 
young sir?” the aging hen
Inquires. “I asked for 
him to meet us here” 
The raven feathered 
hen replies, and then
She motions him towards 
a chair that’s clear.
The cat does glance 
towards the mother hen
And gives her quite 
a puckish grin.
While squirming in 
her chosen seat is when
She then decides to 
elevate her chin.
Defensively she 
hollers, “Do you bear
Some words to say to me?” 
while crossing both
Her arms in anger - 
as she tries to scare
The cat with all her 
puffing chest’s 
new growth.
“You’ve said far more 
than I would need to say”
The clever cat replies. 
“The hens that sit 
Around you only 
lean upon your sway;
There’s no respect, 
but too much 
fear to quit.”
“You know, I am a 
pillar of this town!”
She says with quite 
a haughty, pompous look.
“My influential mark 
and great renown
Can never, ever be 
in truth mistook.”
“Well, if you are our 
village pillar then 
It’s built on shaky 
ground” the cat does say.
“You lean upon the 
gracious things each hen 
provides – withholding much
From those you sway.
“Your presence here is 
overstayed” proclaims
The short and blackly 
colored, bolder hen. 
“Inside this house are 
only friendly birds; 
Your haughty, vain, 
deceitful words and claims
Are shown through bold and 
truthful feline words.”
So, like a bratty, 
angry teenage fowl,
The jilted bird – no 
more a mother hen,
Is forced to leave and 
makes an bitter scowl
Upon her face; she’ll 
never come again.
And as the day grows 
full, the hens adore
Delicious tea and 
treats the cat provides; 
The feline’s lovely 
mood gives even more 
To them than all the 
candid speech 
he guides.