In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines
Lived a little gray cat all covered with lines
She made her home behind the wall
Came out to play when she was called
Her muted tabby stripes became
The reason for her silly name
They called her Tweedy – you know, like tweed
It suited her well, all agreed
Tweedy had a bouncing gait
Light on her feet
At pouncing — great!
She bouncy-pounced around the house
Until the day there came a mouse
Who ventured in, and up, behind
The wall to Tweedy’s lair — unkind!
Behind the wall Tweedy had no pounce
Behind the wall Tweedy had no bounce
So nose-to-nose with visiting mouse
Tweedy growled and hissed and groused
Then little mouse spoke in his little mouse voice
“Don’t be like this! You have a choice —
We could be friends, you and I.
Sip some tea. Nibble on pie.”
Tweedy stopped her growl and hiss
Said to the mouse, “I’ve been remiss.
Yes, let’s go out into the kitchen
I’ll see if I can find a smidgeon.”
So out they went from Tweedy’s space
Into the big wide kitchen place
“Bet you don’t weigh even an ounce,”
Tweedy said — and then she pounced
“Delicious!” she purred a few minutes later
Not feeling the least bit like a traitor.
There’s an old house in Paris covered with vines
Guarded by cat with muted gray lines
This week’s W3 is brought by Josie.
Every poem begins somewhere. Sometimes, all it takes is a single line to set our imagination in motion. But what happens when that first line belongs to someone else?
For this prompt, I invite you to borrow the opening line of any poem, famous or obscure, and use it as the starting point for a poem of your own.
You can keep as much of the original poem’s voice, rhythm, tone, form, or imagery as you like, or leave it all behind and head in a completely different direction. Be serious or playful, thoughtful or mischievous, quiet or outrageous. The important thing is to let your own voice shine through.
I kind of cheated by using the first line of Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans. It’s a children’s book (which I love) but it’s also a poem. The best children’s books have that rhymey lilty rhythm that makes them so fun to read aloud.
A friend of mine has a new cat that likes to hide behind the wall in the basement. Her name is Luna — but Tweedy is very much modeled after her.
