Alys knitted tiny hats
which she liked to place on cats
until one day little Tiddles bit her
for placing bonnets on her litter.
Alys, injured, slowly crawled
through the doors and down the hall.
And we found her decades later
Tangled in the rotivator
For Alys, it had come to pass
had expired quietly, in the grass.
Oh dear, poor Alys. Her gown was once cream, but all the grass stains have ruined it, and her hat has gone missing too. She has developed a pollen allergy, an affinity for insects (they are all she had to talk to when she was lying abandoned in the grass) and a deep and abiding distrust of cats.