A/N: A little while ago, I was involved in a semi-serious debate as to which sort of cat Maruman is. So I wrote this poem about it...
The time has come, a girl once said,
to talk of vital things,
Of hope and love and honesty
and pretty fairies' wings,
And why a fight will ever rage
on Maruman's colourings.
He's black and white! No, marmadale!
A noble, ginger cat.
He's tortoiseshell! He's persian grey!
He's white, and that is that.
He's tabby, with a hint of brown!
He's black, or I'll eat my hat!
This cat of cats is calico
and thin as candlewick.
You moron, can't you see that he's
as brick red as a... brick?
And others say: 'This fight must stop.
This prejudice is sick!'
But I say that Maruman is
a cat of many hues,
Of red and white and lavender
and oranges and blues,
Of green and purple all mixed up -
the colours of a bruise.
A rainbow cat of colours bright,
where red and purple match.
Where puce and yellow swirl about
a solid crimson patch.
And silver loops around his tum
to form a little sash.
This is the truth, without a doubt,
a solid, proven fact.
And all your protests otherwise,
a certain something lack.
But in the end, it matters not -
at night, all cats are black.