Isle Of Cats

Long ago when time was young,

Before the singers sadly sung,

When there were not yet heroes of great renown,

And the trees were not tall and grown, 

A man roved out from the eastern town,

Canoe heavy laden with pearl and gown,

And long did he paddle tiresome,

The lack of land sight wearisome,

'Til came into his view a lonely island,

Rising up from the mist as a giant hand,

Overjoyed he was at the sight,

As he was weary and quick faded light,

He ran ashore his little boat,

And too his surprise spied a keep with long dried moat,

Though tall it stood above the sea,

It sported cracked walls and sagging wave,

But good enough it would suit,

For this man and his loot,

So he went into the castle yard,

And gathered sticks for firewood,

Soon his little fire did crackle and dance,

And then he took his first chance,

Of many days to rest,

With his hands upon his breast,

He lazily drifted not sleeping,

But neither was he waking,

That it was, until,

He came forth with a chill,

With cold sweat upon his brow,

And he saw shadows beyond the row,

Of withered trees that lined parallel,

And fear began to surge and swell,

The shadows moved with fervor,

And his belly was sick as if with fever,

They circled and prowled ever close,

'Til their breath he could feel in dose,

Then the shadows spoke,

In elegant voices that forth broke,

"What is this mongrel? This vagrant!"

"Fool he is! To take our isle as vacant!"

"A coward is he who invades!

While we slumber in daylight shade."

His heart rose into his throat,

And he wished he could steal away to his boat,

But his feet were as iron and stone,

And the ominous voices did surround,

The tallest shadow did begin to speak,

With a deep voice like a bellow's creak,

"What shall we do with him now? 

While master is away to whom do we bow?

Who amongst us shall decide,

If this man beast should live or die?"

For a moment their was silence dread

And then another voice answered and said,

"While master is away,

We must not violent play,

Let us lock him in the dog cage,

Let him sleep or claw with rage,

There we shall keep this man,

Then our master shall return and we can,

Carry out his bidding then,

For he is the one with the wisdom."

Her words did them sate,

And the great horde did jubilate,

They began to move about again,

And soon they surrounded him,

Then to his shock and surprise,

He did find from their looks and cries,

They were cats, every one,

But what of the speaking they had done? 

"I dream still." He said aloud,

Nay he was a strong man noble and proud,

And cats do not speak,

They only mewl and speak,

And they do not conspire,

Nor do they lust or inquire,

"Fool man." Said the she cat who before had spake,

"Let him be our fool then, and let him weep and shake,

Bind him, tie 'em,

If he don't behave take his feet and fire fry 'em!"

The multitude chortled with such evil glee,

And he struggled, but could not break free,

They drug him into the keep,

Which was not abandoned, as it had seemed,

And they locked him in the cage,

And the she cat set a guard and page,

Against the bars he did thrash,

And outward he did lash,

But his captors many only chuckled,

As the cage's chain did chime and buckle,

Soon he did despair,

And sit it sadness there,

After a great long while he did so hunger,

That he was willing to speak an utter,

"Please hear me,

It has been a long while and I am hungry."

The largest cat did mock him so,

"And why should we feed you?"

The fat cat's mockery upset him dearly,

So our man spoke out again quite clearly,

"If you feed me I will die,

And I am quite sure your master will decry,

And what then will happen to you,

If me by negligence you slew?"

The fat cat did spat,

"Feed you we will then, you drat."

The pages did then produce a flattened rat,

And a flagon of water in an old hat,

They watched him and his disgust,

But he soon broke as he must,

And so ate the dreadful thing,

Then their cruel laughter did ring,

"Look at him! Eating as we do! 

Look at this proud cat-kicker! Look at the fool!"

Hearing this he tried to defend,

"I am no cat-kicker! Of your kind I have always been a friend!"

He begged and pleaded,

But not one of the furry host conceded,

The great she cat then cleared her small throat,

"Lies, lies, you ugly old billy goat,

Long have we suffered under the heel of you kind!

Now be silent and your manners mind! 

While you dwell here, you do as we say,

When we say sleep slumber, and entertain then play!

This is our keep, our grand isle! 

It will not be tainted by manly wile!"

So he went on,

For how long,

He could not be sure,

Sometimes they would strike at his heel,

And force him to kick and squeal,

Sometimes they would command him be still,

As quiet as a dead kill,

Other times they would feed him despicably,

And laugh and jeer cruelly,

The days and nights faded to a blur,

'Til he was true and pure,

A broken beast, a streetly cure,

And he had no hope left to assure,

Then one great sunny morn,

He heard the great call of the master's horn,

And he was afraid,

He had long heard of the works the master had made,

And he knew whatever had already been done,

Was but a shade of what was to come,

For what the she cat had done two fold,

Surely the master would make ten fold,

And then our hero wept,

From within the squallid cage he was kept,

He ran his fingers on the rusty frame,

And wondered if he would ever again feel rain,

Or the sun and the dew in the grass,

Outside of this prison crass, 

He did then shudder,

And not a sound did he utter,

For now had come the terrible hour,

Of the coming of the Lord Of Cats in his power,

Outside of the throne room there was a great cacophony,

A cheering and mewling symphony,

Long did they go on,

With merriment and song,

They feasted upon gravies and fish bones,

And soured milk and brothy foams,

Then He came,

He who was called Dog's Bane,

The great Lord of felines,

His coming was as the wind that shakes the pines,

The room did almost quiver,

As he came and drew thither,

"So this is it? 

The man beast? Who doth in cage sit."

He did chuckle darkly,

And then turned to him sharply,

Then the man did behold the terrible orange eyes,

And grin fanged toothy wry,

"Didst he thinketh himself so sly?

Lo his doom was nigh."

The dark shape turned from him,

And the sun was becoming dim,

The she cat sauntered forward,

"Remember, o master, it is I who deserve the reward!"

And she licked her lips deliciously,

"What would that be, o pray tell to me?"

Her vile grin fell,

"O well-"

"Silence!" 

The room was wild with shock then,

For the outburst of Him,

And the she cat shivered,

The man shrank further and quivered,

The Lord cast his fiery eyes around,

And he basked in the great absence of sound,

The he spake "I know what thee wants,

Thee bloodthirsty blunts! 

And ye shall not have you day,

Now hear me, and what I say,

He is strong and hale,

Though as any man wisdom faileth,

Put him to work, that is beneath us,

The garden most pleases."

Upon the throng there was a split,

But the Lord did simply take his sit,

Upon his limestone chair,

And upon the man he did set his stare,

There was discontent,

And in some merriment,

The she cat set her hate upon the prisoner,

For the shame he had won her,

The fat he cat loudly boasted,

That he had first suggested,

As the great Lord had said,

But now the man saw red,

'I am to cats to be a slave! 

O save! O save!'

Soon he was manacled,

And his feet shackled,

Then he did set about his toil,

In the dark and dusty soil,

And he did bitterly rue the lot,

And his world was dark, as if the sun was inkblot,

His fingers did crack and blister,

From the strain of knife and clipper,

And he made enemies of the hedge and bramble,

And upon him was spat by the cats as they did ramble,

Many an hour did they curse and mock,

And taunt him to stumble o'er thorn and rock,

The she cat most of all,

Taunted him with cruel call,

And often tried to slash and nip,

And spit in his water sip,

One day the man could take no more,

And he gave in and sat for a score,

He began to quietly weep,

And pray for the eternal sleep,

The guards along the wall did see,

They yelled but no heed paid he,

Soon the Lord of cats was summoned to the yard,

Thronged by his pages and vanguard,

His eyes blazed with fury untold,

And with cruel voice loud and bold,

"Arise o sluggard and go back to the soil,

It is your lot to slave and toil? 

If I had your own hands I would take a lash to thee,

And drink of the blood that ye bleed!"

The man simply looked up to the Lord,

Unmoved by the threats and discord,

He was underneath his tears almost bored,

And he found strength to deliver his word,

"Do what you wish,

I am finished."

The water of his eyes did something then,

And stole away the Lord's dark grin,

Something moved inside,

Something he has long thought died,

Many moments passed, 

Like frozen sea or sand,

Until finally he said softly,

"Why do you weep, do you wish to go free?"

The courtyard stood as statues,

Waiting as if for fateful news,

The man's tears fell anew,

And painted his cheeks like lukewarm dew,

"I only wish to see my family again,

And before I die, to tell that I love them."

Then the great proud Lord did weep,

And then he bellowed no longer deep,

"Break his chains, released his feet,

Let him go, make and fleet."

The host was great with shock and surprise,

But they did not dare question the one with fiery eyes,

So the man was quickly released,

And soon into the water he eased,

His canoe though dusty and dirty,

Was still richly laden and water worthy,

Soon he was further than a cats leap from the shore,

And he glanced the Lord once more,

Standing all alone on a great stone,

His dark fur gently wind blown,

And the man could have almost sworn,

He saw him sadly smile beneath his face of scorn,

Long did the man paddle onward,

'Til he reached his homeland,

And there he was inquired of many things,

So he recounted all that he had seen,

But his people only laughed at him,

And said that he was going dim,

So he retired to the life of a fool,

But on still nights, dark and cool,

Much like the one long ago,

The most fateful day he ever did know,

He could sometimes catch a half glimpse of fiery eye,

Piercing through the blanket of night,

And when he was very old he did die,

And then in the clay he did lie,

But never could one in the village explain,

The fish bones and milk bowls that did sometimes appear above his name.