Cat Poetry

Sir Henry; The Rectory Cat

We have a cat whose name is Sir Henry,
With a coat that most other cats would envy,
And a cinnamon tail, which is broad in span,
Not unlike, I would think, Lady Windermere's fan.
He is creamy and silky and soft to the touch,
And whenever you stroke him, he'll tolerate such.
But consider it a privilege he allows you to do so,
And be sure to afford him the respect that is due to
A feline so distinguished - and well-bred, at that -
Who may rightly be seen as an aristocat.

He expects, of course, such haute-cuisine
As that enjoyed by Her Majesty the Queen;
And thus having dined, he then feels led
To retire for a while for a sleep on the bed.

Having now attained a degree of maturity
Sir Henry no longer moves with alacrity,
But takes such exercise as befits his station,
Jumping down from the bed for a little cogitation;
Observing from the window the world going by
And planning to reorganise affairs from on high,
When eventually called to use his abilities
To sort out the mess left by governmental Ministries
Run, by and large, with rank inefficiency,
By those less well-bred and less talented than he.

Having used his energies in mental concentration,
And worked out measures how best to save the nation,
He stores them away at the back of his head,
And with one last effort, jumps back on the bed.
Having worked so hard, with thoughts so deep,
He considers it time to have another sleep.

Sir Henry is now slightly long in the tooth
But often thinks back to the days of his youth,
When, on leaving his family estate near Dover,
He came to a country parish, moreover,
One with a beautiful church ( but no steeple)
Yet filled every Sunday with elegant people
Who recognised that, with its farming and tillage,
A cat had now come to live in their village
Who would add to its tone and its eminence
As a most desirable residence.

But it came to Sir Henry's immediate attention
That the Rectory was in a parlous condition,
Being quite overrun by rabbits and mice
Which, for the new incumbent, was not very nice.
He therefore took immediate action
To reduce their intolerable devastation.
" You either repent and go to Church,
Or else I'll be forced to have you for lunch."

Sadly, they proved to be quite unrepentant;
And considered themselves to be quite independent;
So, after a short, sharp spell of mayhem
Were consigned to Sir Henry's digestive system.
It was not quite the fare for a delicate palate -
With pate of liver they could hardly equate;
But, as Henry observed: "In times of crisis,
We must all be prepared to make sacrifices."

The Rector then asked him if he might be ready
To assist at School with Morning Assembly.
Sir Henry graciously gave his consent,
Concerned that the children should learn what it meant
To think and behave as young Christians should,
To accept that their lessons were all for their good.
His teaching ability met with such admiration
That the Rector asked if he felt a vocation
To take Holy Orders. Sir Henry, however, replied with a smile,
That indeed he had thought about this for a while,
Considering whether he was called to be
The first feline Archbishop of Canterbury.

He had, however, reached the conclusion
His abilities lay in a different direction:
As a thinker and planner and strategist,
Not just as an ordinary activist.
And as such he has built his wide reputation
As one renowned for profound meditation,
Resolving problems beyond human wit
For which only a well-bred cat is fit.

Sir Henry was once approached with the question
As to whether he had ever heard the suggestion
That he might enhance his way of life
By choosing (with care) a suitable wife.
" To find a female of appropriate lineage
I have scanned the whole of Burke's famous “Peerage”,
But have found none of whom I can honestly say
She would share my interests for more than a day.

"As a bachelor, I am able to dedicate
My total attention to matters of state.
Not only that, but I'm at the disposal
Of those who approach me with any proposal
For making improvements in national affairs.
I often advise them to say their prayers
More conscientiously than heretofore -
To talk much less and listen much more -
Which, politicians are loath to do,
Imagining that they are infallible, so
Having nothing to learn, can never be wrong -
We've all of us heard the same old song.
If they were only willing to sit on the mat
And observe and learn from an aristocat!"

Alan Stockbridge

 

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