THE CAT AT WIMBLEDON
by
Mal Brown

A tomcat at a tennis match
Is not a common sight.
I once saw one
At Wimbledon,
Just one seat to my right.

He didn’t clap, he didn’t cheer,
And not a word he spoke.
He didn’t hiss
But didn’t miss
A single volley stroke.

As we left those hallowed halls,
The crowd abuzz with glee,
I noticed that
The glum tomcat
Was walking next to me.

“Why so glum?” I asked the cat.
“Did you enjoy the match?”
“Not a bit.
I hated it,”
Replied the old crosspatch.

“In case you winder why I’m here
Dressed up in slacks and jacket,
I hate the game—
I only came
’Cause father’s in the racket.”