Down at the bottom of the garden,
A Danish Goblin dwelled.
And on, one, hot and windy day,
He screamed! and then he yelled!
"Who's stole my Danish Pastries?
And nicked my strawberry flan?
I'm undone, quite besides myself,
I, will have to make a plan."

Our Danish Goblin called his mates,
Who lived, beneath the hedge.
He told them of his stolen cakes,
From off his window ledge.
"I suppose it could be garden gnomes,
They're all looking kind of fat."
But Gertie, pushed them all aside,
Me thinks,  it was  That Cat.

The cat was sitting 'neath the tree,
Cream, all about her face.
She eyed the Goblins up and down,
And then, began the chase.
First they watched the slant, eyed puss,
Till, her whiskers, began to quiver.
"Stand aside men!" Gertie cried,
Whilst I grab her tongue and liver.

The Goblin swayed, the big cat strayed-
much closer to her quarry.
She stretched her paw, with nail and claw,
And Gertie didn't tarry.
Next up came Bert with his garden spade,
He swung it round his head,
He missed the cat, and  hit  a rat,
Then toppled down quite dead.

Then, with a grin, the puss did spin,
Her tail, curled round her paw.
She sent them sprawling across the lawn ,
Then made it off towards the door.
The Goblins beat, made a hasty retreat,
Then assembled 'neath the bushes.
With scratches and bruises from head to toe,
There were no more, heated rushes.

The Danish Goblins sat quite still,
Each with their own remorse.
Ne'er again would they stand the pain,
Of the pussy cat's, tail and claws.
Gertie decided right there and then,
That, they all, would take a pledge.
If they ever made Danish Pastries again,
They would never, ever, be left, on the ledge.

Diddily Dee Dot August 2007 xxxxxx