This is a poem my late Sister used to read to me when we were kids because it had my name in it, so it is now quite special to me.

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.