While taking a swim off Los Mochis
in the temperate Sea of Cortes,
I happened upon a small island
on which lived a Cat in a Fez.
As I stumbled ashore I first glimpsed him,
a flash of tassel and red through the trees.
There were rumours that he granted wishes,
there were rumours that he ate your knees.
I'd never been fond of my knee caps
and I was in need of a new microwave.
So I crept along after the beastie
and followed him into a cave.
The inside of his lair was astounding
and I fell to the ground in my shock.
I could see hats of all kinds in the cavern;
perhaps my sanity had taken a knock?
The Cat in the Fez sat there knitting
an elaborate woollen beret,
around him were threads, scissors, fabric
and the needles and yarn for crochet.
To start with I thought I was crazy
till the magical moggy exclaimed,
'Good morning, may I grant you some wishes?
'As it is wishes for which I am famed.'
I explained about the microwave oven
then came the reply of the Cat:
'I'm afraid that I only grants wishes
that involve the procurement of hats.'
'I can see that you are disappointed,'
he continued to knit as we sat.
'It's a specialist field, I realise,
'but don't forget that I am just a cat.'
I had to concede him the point there,
I'd been blinded by material greed.
So I ordered a Stetson and a Cloth Cap
and a Sombrero made of ribbons and tweed.
I'm still waiting for my items to come through.
They've been dispatched, so the email says.
But really I think I was swindled,
swindled by a Cat in a Fez.
Illustrated by Hannah Radenkova at hannahradenkova.blogspot.com