O Tablecat, your verse and rhyme
E'er bring a smile to my face;
I wonder if it takes much time
To fill your posts with humourous grace?
Of Nifflas' 'The Machine' you sing
(Unless I have misjudged my guess) -
That tileset is a wondrous thing
But overused, one must confess.
Of atmosphere, I call you right;
Movement and sound matter entire!
For what is thunder without light?
Or what is burning without fire?
O Tablecat, come all that may,
I'd hap'ly hear you sing, my friend.
May you upon that table stay
And your great poems never end!