Poetry for Africa Book 1 by ScobaXL - HTML preview

THE CAT AND THE BROOM

The broom looks tattered and tired today,

The raggedest Stick of broom;

It couldn’t reach up for a cobweb grey

Or sweep out the smallest room.

…

And trusty Tompkins, our little black cat,

With fur like the finest silk,

Is curled up tight in a ball on the mat

Too sleepy to drink his milk.

…

But the bald old broom looks rakish and sly,

As if it had been on a spree;

And puss from a narrow satin eye

Looks wickedly out at me.

…

Ho, ho! I know what the rascal pair

In the midnight hours were at;

It wasn’t moussing or sweeping the stair

That made them look like that.

…

I know by the old broom’s battered plight

And Tompkin’s look of sin,

They were both of them out with a witch last night,

And they’ve just got in.

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