After watching this video about an owl befriending a (pussy)cat, I was immediately reminded of this Edward Lear poem, The Owl and the Pussycat:

I
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
    In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
    Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
    And sang to a small guitar,
‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
      What a beautiful Pussy you are,
          You are,
          You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!’
II
Pussy said to the Owl, ‘You elegant fowl!
    How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
    But what shall we do for a ring?’
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
    To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
    With a ring at the end of his nose,
          His nose,
          His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

III
‘Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
    Your ring?’ Said the Piggy, ‘I will.’
So they took it away, and were married next day
    By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
    Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
    They danced by the light of the moon,
          The moon,
          The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.


.via nonsenselit.

Incidentally, the last line “they danced to the light of the moon” is a rising rhythm, which places the emphasis on the last syllable of each foot. And furthermore, this line and the introduction to rising rhythm in 9th grade inspired my poem feeding clouds (previous post). It’s all a cycle that keeps churning out reminiscings & musings, even after the initial inspiration has been accounted for.

Lear’s poem reminds me of Louis Sachar’s Holes poem about the wolf and the woodpecker, which I remember from several years ago b/c my best friend Helen had it written on a picture of the wolf and woodpecker…I love its rhythm:

“If only, if only,” the woodpecker sighs,/ “The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies.”/ While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely,/ Crying to the moo-oo-oon,/ If only, If only.”
Louis Sachar (Holes)
 
…Which further reminds me of the World War II song from Vera Lynn, because it was in Katherine Patterson’s book Jacob Have I Loved:
 
‘There’ll be bluebirds over, the White Cliffs of Dover, Tomorrow, Just you wait and see.

                                       There’ll be love and laughter, and PEACE ever after, Tomorrow, 

                                                                                                                                                        When the World is free.’