It is a cat but not a kitty, You'll never catch on in a city. Its fangs are huge and so its claws, A death machine with paws and jaws. In its own way a royal fellow, Striped with black and clothed in yellow
I fly to any foreign parts assisted by my spreading wings. My body holds an hundred hearts Nay I will tell you stranger things when I am not in haste I ride and then I mend my pace anon.