There’s a Tiger in the cupboard at the bottom of our stairs, and you’ll get a chance to see him if you catch him unawares. If you tiptoe really quiet and attempt a careful peep, through the keyhole of our cupboard, you may find him fast asleep. When he isn’t feeling hungry he’s as friendly as can be. He’ll sit still for simply ages while I read him poetry. And I never have to feed him for I find he’s quite content, just to snack on bill collectors or the men who come for rent. Or on trolls, non-rhyming poets, and those vacuum cleaner men. They all disappear completely and are never seen again.
I asked my friend the Tiger if perhaps they’d ventured in. He responded with a knowing wink…
And self contented grin.
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