Rosi Caswell

I walk down the road
And what do I see?
A Calico cat is
looking at me.
I smile at the cat
So refreshingly free.
I sit down and wait
And he deigns to come see.
I ask why his name
Is the Calico Cat.
He rubs on my knee
And he says 'it's just that'
For the Calico Cat
Is not commonly seen.
Don't you know why we're so called?
Just where have you been?
I had to admit I never had heard
Why the Calico Cat was so named.
He flicked up his tail,
Said 'don't be ashamed,
I'll tell you the story'.
The word on the street
Is uttered in whispers
These cats are elite.
The legends do tell
Of the history true
That the Calico Cat
Carries blood only blue.
For he once did a favour
For the King and the Queen.
When his task was complete
Such reverence was seen.
Honoured in the circles
Of royalty was he
And frequently sat
On the pretty queen's knee.
But the secret of trust
He will carry to grave
For the Calico Cat
In whose honour was gave.
In awe and in wonder
Regarded was he,
And to this day the Calico
Still sits on 'the knee'
So hush little darlings
As the tale will be told
And we'll all keep the secret
To have and to hold.
So his story he told me,
Then he went on his way
And I never was wiser
To the end of my day.
The tale of the Calico cat
Is oft relayed,
But the secret of such
In the closing is laid.