The Poet Laureate of Zion sat at his desk in his displace African kraal
and watched as his ginger and white striped cat
once more came by to pay a call
upon his laptop computer he sat
The Bard of Bat Yam, studied him and his green eyes
Rikkki De Riiik , his cat, stared straight back at him
he had a very royal princely guise
from the day he wandered in with a 'snugglech me Steve' chagrin
This sweet ball of fluff amused the Zionist Muse no end
for sat upon his desk: he refused to bow or curtsey
was a subject who would to '' I have works to complete '' not bend
a paw raised gentle to his cheek in courtesy
He knew that cats and kings were one
of a very, very special kind
for when all was said and done
that's how they were destined and designed
The Bard and Laureate of Zion watched the cat and smiled again
as he majestically,on urgent state business papers settled down
a cat that ruled with cuteness and cuddliness in his domain
his best friend and the Maharajah of all in Bat Yam town
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