There ‘twas a cat stuck in the Christmas tree on a Sunday afternoon,
Tangled in tinsel and twisted amongst lights,
Looking much like a furry festive baboon,
Yet on they rolled and fumbled away,
‘Till the daylight started to wane from the day.
Come midnight all the baubles had fallen near everywhere,
From this poor felines reenactment of a sparkly crocodile roll,
Though it be much less muddy and imbue their own distinctively furry flare,
Creating a not so magical sight for owners soon to behold,
Whom would have an interesting new Christmas story to one day be told.
Still on the feline wriggled around, trying to get itself free,
From the fairy lights and strands of sparkly tinsel,
And other decor designed to fill one with magical Christmas glee,
‘Till they were ready to just accept that for the near future they would be stuck,
Thus meowing a wish that their exploration had never run amok…
Next thing a thud could clearly be heard,
From outside the room the mischievous cat was imprisoned,
Followed by which a doorknob or three was turned,
Then entering before the distressed tangled cat,
Was a large man in red, wearing a Pom Pom trimmed hat.
Saint Nick looked at that little cat, all engulfed in a mess of lights and tinsel,
Thinking a mere moment before announcing in a soothing voice,
‘Relax now my little friend, get you out in a mere moment I will.’
Then in the time it took for dear old Santa to scratch an itch on his nose,
The tangles untwisted and the mess tidied itself whilst the cat landed gratefully upon it's furry little toes!
The Poetic Life 2.0 