Our interesting new neighbor.
Our new neighbor is friendly and has a black cat;
she is woman enough but I wouldn’t say fat.
Told me Agatha Ditty was her name, all right;
from the times I have talked with her, I found delight.
On her porch stays a pumpkin with candle inside;
(why the thing doesn’t rot makes my eyes open wide.)
I remarked that the pumpkin seemed beyond the real;
all she said was it came from Jack’s O'-Lantern field.
In her doorway an odd decoration conveys;
an old broom that is matted—it’s seen better days.
Still it speaks of the quaintness and country inn charm;
(Little House on the Prairie, McDonald’s old farm.)
Both my wife and I took her a lily one day;
’twas a welcome of peace and a neighborly hey.
We were greeted with glee as we walked in the room,
yet my pate was a-tickle from swish of the broom
which had happened to brush me when I entered so;
(all in all, fancy hanging, yet not mistletoe.)
Then when Agatha poured us some Country Time tea,
I looked down to discern a black cat at my knee.
The black cat’s name was Maize, and he offered a purr;
(Sue Bear Honey was added to tea with a stir.)
Then old Agatha spoke to Maize with marked tone:
“Maize behave yourself! Leave our new neighbor alone.”
Maize reacted with back up and jumped on a chair;
our good host was pink-faced ‘neath a short of white hair.
We were given fresh bread and some real butter too;
in the kitchen, lime walls with the floor-tiles blue.
Good old Agatha showed us potholders she made;
then we went out the back door and into the shade
of an oak tree so big that together we, “Wowed!”
Maize meowed to come out and was duly allowed.
At a red picnic table the three of us talked;
yet anon it was four when sir Maize up and walked
down the length of the table as if he were king;
wherein Agatha simply announced, “That’s his thing.”
Then my wife and I headed for home before long
where the both of us felt like an uplifting song.
Oh so pleasantly taken by new neighbor tune;
we accepted the fact that we would return soon.