Tanksgiving Pootry

Halllloooo!!

Tis I, Lenny!

Weeel, I was justa tinkin dat I be atryin me paw at some pootry writin. It shouldna be so haird. If'n a Sassenach like dat Shakespeare laddie kin do it, then it should be a walk in the heather fer one sooch as me. 

So here be me masterpiece:

 The Eve O' Tanksgivin

Twas the Eve O' Tanksgivin

An all tru da hoose,

Nay a critter was astirrin

Not even da moose.

The bigguns had hided their bonny clothes 

In da closet wit grit care,

In hopes dat brave Lenny

Would no share his hair.

But brave, young Lenny,

He noodled a plan.

He studied and plotted

Unteel it was grand.

Brave , young Lenny waited

Wit da patience O' Job.

An den he snucked in da privy

An hid in a robe.

He waited an waited,

Unteel da bigguns slept,

Den he snucked inda bedroom

Under yon beddie he crept.

To yon closet door,

Our hero did crawl,

Den turned on the knobby

Wit a flick O' his paw.

All da bigguns clothes
Were hung in neat rows.
Shoes an boots all polished,
No scuffys on dere toes.

Everyting in da closet 
So trim, an so neat.
But our brave young Lenny,
Would rise to dis feat.

He joomped up on da hangars,
He put hairballs in da shoes.
He peeked tru da doorway,
But da bigguns still snoozed.

He rubbed fur all over,
Their bonniest clothes.
He scratched all da shoes an boots,
An chewed up dere toes.

As he snucked outta da closet,
He looked back wit pride,
An den he smacked da tie rack
An knocked it aside.

And our brave Lenny
He waits for da morn,
When da bigguns will discover his work
And cry out in scorn.

"Ivan! Oh Ivan!
What have ye been doins?
Ye've attacked da closet!
And left it in ruins!" 

Now why should they blame Ivan?
Ye may be asking yerselves.
Smart, brave, young Lenny
Left Ivan's fur on da shelves.

So dat's me poom. I told ye isna so haird.

Happy Tanksgivin to all ye froom Me and da piebald moose!