Ode: To Simon’s Drinking Problem
It’s clear dear cat you’ve had a water drink
For it hangs thick and low from your thin chin
As a large drop through which light rays glisten
Then a flicker of your tongue’s tip quite pink
Comes with a sway of your tail, its kink
So noticed like that water drop again
(And you without a little silk napkin)
Your habit’s one endearingly distinct.
Plus your drinking problem leaves us no stink
Like old food stuff or hard liquor like gin
And into a bad thing you didn’t sink
You’ve committed naught resembling a sin
Habits can still be dropped in an eye’s blink
While having you nears my mind’s medicine.