Ginger

I had a cat named Ginger,

A very docile cat indeed.

I dressed him in a doll's bonnet,

Dress and socks he did wear.

Ginger never struggled to escape,

When placed in my doll's pram.

I wheeled him around the yard,

Ginger would go to sleep.

I would sit on the swing which hung,

From the branch of the Jacaranda tree.

I'd patiently wait for Ginger to wake,

While practicing how to knit.

Needles were out, six inch nails were in,

My father would grumble,

When no nails could be found.

Wool would not slip on rusty nails,

So new ones had to be sought.

Ginger was my best friend,

The best I ever had.

Until that fatal day,

The train too fast.

Ginger to slow.

My best friend is no more,

Ginger had pushed his luck.

Just that once too often,

And the train won.