Once upon a  time
most tales start with this line,
a sweet little thing
lived with a wicked queen
who thought she was the most,
to her surprise she found she was toast
the sweet little thing had beat her uttermost,
no more castle for you sweet little thing,
go live in the forest with seven little men
that ought to be punishment enough for ten,
well you know from here on how the story went
eventually, as always, it had to have a happy end.

Then there was this story
of a beauty locked up in a tower
do you note by the way that heroines
are always in danger, held at bay,
in dire need of rescue by a heroic male,
turns out this poor little thing had a
head of hair you wouldn't believe
it was so long it must have weighed quite a sum,
somehow a hero got involved, ingenious their plan,
the poor little thing let down her hair  from the tower
hero climbed up, to comfort her, what a show of power,
well that went on for a while, her headaches got worse for wear,
yet as usual the misguided guardian was dispatched without much care,
once more permitting a happy, they lived long afterwards, fare.

Now we better wrap up these stories
but this last one has got to be one of allegory,
you see there was this Machiavellian cat
who spoke quite well, carried a sack on his back,
dressed in seven league boots and feathered hat,
a very poor master had he, but fear not
the cat was so clever, so skilled, so apt,
that he worked out a master plan to unseat
a most wealthy lord magician and cheat him
out of all earthly goods, all his lands and on a whim,
daring the magician to change into a mouse,
even his life, thus forever, putting his master 'in',
wish I had a cat like that, when would you like to begin.