He must have been a gambler on the Delta Queen,
knowing where the cards were placed before they could be seen.
With hands as fast as lightening, he’d deal a winning hand,
then stroll along the promenade and listen to the band.
He must have been a feline, all slick and glossy brown,
with tread so ghostly silent, he never made a sound.
He’d sit high on the alter where monks would come to pray,
and listen to their chanting till the break of day.
He must have had a kingdom, high upon a hill,
and servants who with speed of light would do their masters will.
He had three shiny mirrors and sandals made of gold,
and drank a magic portion so he never would grow old.