FIVE EYES
          Walter de la Mare

          In Hans' old mill his three black cats
          Watch the bins for the theiving rats
          Whisker and claw, they crouch in the night
          Their five eyes smouldering green and bright

          Squeaks from the flour sack, squeaks from where,
          The cold wind stirs on the empty stair
          Squeaking and scampering everywhere.

          Then down they pounce, now in, now out,
          With whisking tail and sniffing snout
          While lean old Hans he snores all day
          Till peep of light, at break of day

          Then up he climbs to his creaking mill
          Out comes his cats all grey with meal
          Jekkel, Jessop and one eyed Jill

          In Hans' old mill his three black cats
          Watch the bins for the thieving rats
          Whisker and claw they crouch in the night
          Their five eyes, smouldering green and bright.

I want to dedicate this page to my late Sister who when we were kids used to quote this poem to me because it had my name in it