Tyger, tyger burning bright,
Blazing headlamps in the night
Some immortal hand or brain
Has taught me to keep out of rain.
When the storm clouds shroud the stars,
I take shelter under cars,
When they go, the passing showers,
I come forth to smell the flowers.
With the tears from Heaven rent,
Blossoms synthesize their scent.
He who smiles this work to see
Also smiles since he made me.
Tyger, tyger burning bright
Shining orbs that pierce the night,
What immortal hand did make
Me and also William Blake?
By Paul Gallico from Honourable Cat. 🐈