Chambray.
This is a story-poem that I promised allisona ages ago. Allison? Here you go.
***
In a fine town, on a fine street,
There was a very fine shop indeed.
It had white shutters and green shingles,
And a sign that was painted in gold and green,
And a fine, wide display window full of cloth and cats.
And the fairest cat was a blue and white kitten,
And the finest cloth was a blue and white linen,
And they both of them were called chambray.
Chambray the cat had two white paws to set her apart,
For both were soft, and sleek, and very fine indeed.
The two were very fine friends, and Chambray slept
On a trailing edge of the chambray cloth every night.
One day, a merchant-man, shopping for goods,
Came to the fine town, the fine street, the very fine shop.
'This cloth will make my wife a lovely gown,' he said,
And he bought the bolt of chambray on the spot.
They wrapped it in brown paper, and Chambray cried,
Because she didn't understand that things must change.
All that was left was a small scrap of chambray,
Discarded underneath the table.
Chambray took the scrap in her mouth, said,
"I have lost my friend, and I will not allow this;
The world is not as things would have it be.
So I will bring back what I've lost.
I will do this thing."
She took her scrap of cloth, and her two white paws,
And her smoke-blue coat, and she walked
Out of the door
Out of the shop
Out of the street
Out of the town
And into the big wide world.
She walked through the autumn, where the leaves burned;
She walked through the winter, where the world froze.
She walked out of kittenhood and into her full growth,
And everywhere she went, people bid her stay;
Good people, bad people, young people, old people,
But she said only, "No," and "no" and "no" again, and,
"Somewhere I have a friend who waits for me;
Somewhere I have a friend who loves me well.
Home is where my heart is, and my heart is a bolt
Of fine chambray cloth."
And she walked on.
She walked through the spring, where the rain fell,
She walked through the summmer, where the harvest came.
She walked until she came to a house
On a street
Where children played on the sidewalks,
And washing hung on the wire.
And there was her friend, the chambray cloth,
In curtains, in aprons, and in a fine dancing dress
Flapping in the morning breeze.
She set down her scrap, and sang, "Hello, hello!"
And the afternoon sang back to her, filled with the snap
And flutter of fabric in the wind.
When the people who lived there came home,
They found Chambray on the porch,
And they said, "What a very fine cat,"
And they took her inside
And closed
The door.
In a fine town, on a fine street,
There was a very fine house indeed.
It had green shingles and a white door,
And curtains made of chambray cloth,
And a blue and white cat suckling her kittens
By the glow of the parlour fire.
***
In a fine town, on a fine street,
There was a very fine shop indeed.
It had white shutters and green shingles,
And a sign that was painted in gold and green,
And a fine, wide display window full of cloth and cats.
And the fairest cat was a blue and white kitten,
And the finest cloth was a blue and white linen,
And they both of them were called chambray.
Chambray the cat had two white paws to set her apart,
For both were soft, and sleek, and very fine indeed.
The two were very fine friends, and Chambray slept
On a trailing edge of the chambray cloth every night.
One day, a merchant-man, shopping for goods,
Came to the fine town, the fine street, the very fine shop.
'This cloth will make my wife a lovely gown,' he said,
And he bought the bolt of chambray on the spot.
They wrapped it in brown paper, and Chambray cried,
Because she didn't understand that things must change.
All that was left was a small scrap of chambray,
Discarded underneath the table.
Chambray took the scrap in her mouth, said,
"I have lost my friend, and I will not allow this;
The world is not as things would have it be.
So I will bring back what I've lost.
I will do this thing."
She took her scrap of cloth, and her two white paws,
And her smoke-blue coat, and she walked
Out of the door
Out of the shop
Out of the street
Out of the town
And into the big wide world.
She walked through the autumn, where the leaves burned;
She walked through the winter, where the world froze.
She walked out of kittenhood and into her full growth,
And everywhere she went, people bid her stay;
Good people, bad people, young people, old people,
But she said only, "No," and "no" and "no" again, and,
"Somewhere I have a friend who waits for me;
Somewhere I have a friend who loves me well.
Home is where my heart is, and my heart is a bolt
Of fine chambray cloth."
And she walked on.
She walked through the spring, where the rain fell,
She walked through the summmer, where the harvest came.
She walked until she came to a house
On a street
Where children played on the sidewalks,
And washing hung on the wire.
And there was her friend, the chambray cloth,
In curtains, in aprons, and in a fine dancing dress
Flapping in the morning breeze.
She set down her scrap, and sang, "Hello, hello!"
And the afternoon sang back to her, filled with the snap
And flutter of fabric in the wind.
When the people who lived there came home,
They found Chambray on the porch,
And they said, "What a very fine cat,"
And they took her inside
And closed
The door.
In a fine town, on a fine street,
There was a very fine house indeed.
It had green shingles and a white door,
And curtains made of chambray cloth,
And a blue and white cat suckling her kittens
By the glow of the parlour fire.