Oh, if I were a kitty cat,
Then, ah surely, then,
The girls would love me just like that.
A young girl's heart is light and gay,
And so I'd entertain
My mistress with my frisky play.
Beware, ye floating Kleenex ghosts!
Beware, ye proud yarn-mice!
For I was born to pounce and leap,
And I would climb the drapes and walls,
Race around the dining room,
To catch my prey within my paws,
And then she'd laugh and laugh and say:
"Just look at that silly cat!"
Then later, she'd feed me milk and brush my coat,
And let me sit upon her lap,
And with that soft and slender hand
She'd stroke and pet my furry head.
When twilight fell, and she, my mistress,
Cuddled down to bed,
How I would snuggle against that blossoming young lady,
And while she sleeps, sniff and play with her hair,
(And nuzzle her where no man yet would dare!)
She'd never know, and her Father'd never guess
The meaning of my intimate caress.
You pampered tom, would I could play your game,
But my own heart is heavier than yours,
And easy prey for foolishness and shame.
Yes, woman's heart is light and gay,
And longs for men who are fond of play,
But mine's a heart that's stark and grey.
My words are shadows, my presence stone,
My smile is but a painted frown.
A stranger am I, and strangers walk alone.
George Chadderdon © 1995