The Problem

Poem on photo of balls of yarn.

I’ve a problem here,
Of the feline sort;
Your cat, my dear,
It’s she I caught,
Stealing the wool,
From my knitting bag.
(It used to be full,
But I don’t like to nag.)
If it could be returned,
When she’s done with it,
My thanks you’ll have earned,
As I’d quite like to knit.

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