The Hyperactive Stranger at Orange Street
One day at a cake shop,
I met a man selling cats,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some bats.
"Got any bats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No bats here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely pies,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some surprise."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally cute,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call resolute,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit hyperactive.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty proactive.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the cake shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."
"Cats, bats, you shall find.
Pies, surprise, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to Orange Street Market.
So to Orange Street Market I decided to go,
In search of the bats I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling bears,
Chairs in many shades.
There were even stalls selling pairs
People were scattered from many trades
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather hyperactive
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all proactive.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some bats!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some pies and cats.
"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the bats she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I heard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?