A Random Thought With Little Plot!

Does the cat ever have a plot? Maybe once in a while a plot is thought. Or the thought of the plot is caught. Now I've lost your train of thought? Don't worry one bit. I still have mine for a bit.

If wishes were fishes,
And fishes were dishes,
Then dishes with fishes,
Would splashes and splishes.

Those splishes and splashes,
Would bring crashes and flashes.
Then trashes of ashes,
Would clutter and clashes.

The clashes and clutter,
Would putter and sputter,
Then out of the gutter,
Comes bitter and butter.

The butter and bitter,
Would sputter and spitter,
Much like litter with glitter.
A double hatter with hitter.

The hitter and hatter,
Would scatter and shatter,
From batter with matter,
A smatter filled chatter.

The chatter of matter,
Or the chatter of latter,
Would flatter and tatter,
And pitter with patter.

The patter and pitter,
Brings fitter and sitter,
By glitter with litter,
And butter through bitter.

The bitter through butter,
Would sputter and putter,
A gutter of mutter,
With clashes and clutter.

The clutter by clashes,
Creates rashes and gashes,
From flashes and trashes,
Through splishes and splashes.

So splashes and splishes,
Creates dishes with fishes,
If fishes were dishes,
And fishes brought wishes.

Did you get tongue tied? The cat would smile wide. Hey, the rhyme just got stuck in my head and so I thought I'd let it out to get stuck in your head instead, Wasn't that nice of me? Did I confuse thee? Better never then make wishes with fishes near dishes that splashes and splishes. Stick with the mass or the singing bass or rolling in grass like my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.