Classic Poem

Two wisps of flame that twist and flash about
(Well imaged in Debussy's lovely score).
Summer was over, so they fished you out
From where you sported in the out-of-door.

And here I find you, after many days
Of absence, swimming in a kitchen dish;
I who am darkly ignorant of the ways
Of finny pets — I never kept a fish.

Your gentle mistress has forgotten you;
She'll be so sorry when I send her word.
She never dreamed you'd live the summer thro';
She thinks the cat has got you, or some bird.

But here you are, as lively as can be,
Twisting and darting in a rusty tub.
Confound it! I suppose it's up to me
To change your water and to find you grub.

What do you eat? Or do you thrive without?
Quelle corvee! (which is French for " What a chore! " ).
I half suspect I'd spill you down the spout
Were't not for Claude Debussy's Poissons d'Or .