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!'
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.
'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.
Vonnie was even more expressive than usual when she recited this. Each animal had its own distinctive voice, and for some reason the Pussycat always ended up with an outrageously plummy English accent. She was also known to address random birds that She saw as "You elegant fowl!", which seemed to mystify them a little and cracked me up completely.
I think that we both saw this poem as a light-hearted allegory for the life we made together for ourselves, and that's why it gets top billing, although anything with cats in it will will always rate fairly well. There's more of Edward Lear's nonsense art and poetry here if you feel like some fun.
Well, I suppose so, but I liked it long before we were together. Allegory or not, I just think it's sweet and silly. The 'outrageous' accent, as David puts it, came from a record we had of the poem when we were kids. So there!
BTW, as far as we know, Stretch, the pussycat in the picture, has never been to sea, with or without an Owl, although there have been some unexplained absences. He's obviously not the puss in the poem, but he insisted on having his face on the WWW.
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