There was a smitten kitten, too hot to wear mittens,
whose conventions sent you over the moon.
She liked hiking tall towers,
sniffing lavender flowers
and smiling when tunes were crooned.
It is known and it's written,
many cats liked Smitten Kitten,
some still do to this day.
There were polecats, fat cats, tall cats, small cats and cats that were all work and no play.
There were fast cats, scaredy-cats and cats who only came out at night or the day.
There were even other kittens,
too hot for their mittens,
who loved when she'd come out to play.
All were fun,
had their day in the sun,
but none purred smitten kitten the right way.
It has been said and has been written that smitten kitten,
too hot for her mittens,
without pretense or condition,
had a purring penchant for cellar rats and precision in the kitchen.
In the French district downtown,
near the alleys by the Sound,
some nights she waits for one Ronin Chef,
for last time he left,
a tall and a tasty treat.
Smitten Kitten gives pause,
relaxes her claws,
licking her paws...she wishes,
for his white wine-kissed elaborate fish dishes
and dreams of what next he will make.
Her tongue and mouth can’t wait.
Tonight it occurs,
he arrives...she purrs,
on the alley wall she curls up and takes a seat.
Endearingly peering through the window...she thinks...
"Whilst he stack his plates with mouth-watering innuendo?"
"Whilst he whip the spicy sauces and flames into a great crescendo?"
He begins...as so...
He chops and he flips sizzled serranos, hot on the lips,
and stacks seasoned seafood high on a plate.
His old radio is tuned
to a station crooning tunes,
twisting tongs and spinning spoons,
the One Ronin chef shoots for the moon.
The chef vigorously bakes and flambés,
stirs curds away,
hands so fast it's alluringly blurring.
He says not a word nor nary a chanced glance occurring.
Smitten Kitten's eyes glazed,
her mouth watering for "amaze"!
Food spins, is seared and is braised.
pots clambered!
hot buns glazed!
fruit hammered!
Sauces ablaze!
Bang, Boom!!
Alas it was done,
Her heart and appetite had been won.
And the chef began to tear the kitchen down and moved out of sight.
Suddenly she scampered and hid,
as a savory stacked plate was slid
carefully out the backdoor and out of the way.
The chef it occurs
had made it for her,
and her fur began to frazzle and fray.
She sniffed the array of flavor,
her palette began to saveur,
the salt,
the unami,
the spicy and sweet.
It is said and is written,
from Smitten Kitten’s first bite bitten,
she remains stunned, amazed and enamored, to this day.