Meowington Hacks was a British cat,
who never left home without his bowler hat.
He liked his tea at exactly noon,
if you served it at 10:00 it was a bit too soon.
He gave his paw a little curl,
he held the cup like a Scottish Earl.
It was treacle tart with heavy cream,
Victoria's spongecake..." Oh, what a dream!" ...
Sticky toffee pudding, banoffee pie.
He ate so much trifle he thought he might die.
One day he was invited to a lovely brunch,
which is not quite breakfast and not quite lunch.
The invitation came from a lady cat,
who had fine connections, quite the aristocrat.
He arrived in style, he had his own Barouche,
and removed his hat with an eloquent swoosh.
He bowed and kissed the lady's white paw,
she was the plumpest kitty that you ever saw.
Poor Meowington Hacks was quite taken aback,
he was dire disappointed by the charms she lacked. Despite her big house and costly jewels,
looking at her seemed unjustly cruel.
So before madam kitten could utter a word,
he had left in a rush like a frightened bird,
and he would soon bemoan that fateful day,
when he had forgotten his manners and ran away. Because hanging in the lady cats elegant foyer,
was his favorite hat, his beaver hair bowler...