When Tibbles Had Nibbles

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When Tibbles had Nibbles


There once was a mouse

We had in our house

Came over the fence

And I use the past tense



For I have a cat

Who’s getting quite fat

Less crotchet, more minim.

But still has it in him…



He pussy foots around

Look what I found!

Fluff on his claws

Spaghetti in his jaws,



His fluffed up tail

Like a dodgem rail

Purr-fect question mark

Strolls into the dark,



Soon I felt quite sad

Told him I was mad

But he was being deceived

I really felt relieved,



He dashed through the gap,

No paws, in a flap

Clapping as it closed

The mouse soon disposed,



One witness saw the crime

Stood frozen all the time

Through his prison rails,

Inside, his heart wails



My cat’s whiskers still

Feline groovy from its kill

The hamster now in view

He whispered, “Next it’s you!”,



Thus death meets life

I told it to the wife

Your cat’s done the deed

He won’t need a feed,



Nibbles looks quite edgy

Seen Tibbles ain’t no veggy

They share the long day

He keeps the cat at bay,



Hamster’s friend, not food

You’d better just be good,

His eyes narrow to a slot,

At every chance he’s got,



One day the cage is empty,

Tibbles has had plenty,

He got a bit too close.

Now Nibbles is toast,



RIP Nibbles


M x


◄ Stu of the Steps

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Taylor Crowshaw

Fri 31st Aug 2018 18:01

This poem is right up my street Mike. Light with a touch of the melodramatic theatrics that our feline friends often provide. Enjoyed this. I look forward to reading more of your work. Taylor 😃

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M.C. Newberry

Sun 13th May 2018 17:13

Some great lines...especially the "minim" and "in him" combo.
Your feline seems to enjoy more luck than the cat (owned
by a famous poet of yore) who got careless fishing for his prey in a goldfish bowl. But that also inspired a poem.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Sun 13th May 2018 08:51

I love cats but I love birds more and since our cat was murdered by the neighbour's dog our bird population has gone through the roof (not literally).

On a slightly different note, I found three young voles fresh from their cosy nest on Thursday. I think the parents may have been predated or the nest disturbed. I held them in my hand and they buried their noses between my fingers. I tried putting them back down their nest hole but they kept coming back out. Later I found one had died and the ants were investigating it. Such is nature in all its cruel cuteness.

Enjoyed the poem Mike. RIP Nibbles.

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Hannah Collins

Sat 12th May 2018 20:37

Poor Nibbles !
Amazing poem, I love it.
The raised tail like a purr-fect question mark, usually when they're pleased about something.


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