A Stranger At West St. Market

One day at a Toy 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 cakes,

I'll give you a very fine price."

"I'd rather have some snakes."

The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally brainy,

And his manner was strangely amused.

He wasn't what I would call zany,

Great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,

Some say I'm a bit tall.

Still he gave me a courteous nod,

As if he thought I was plenty cool.

So in search of my goal I departed,

But before the Toy shop could I leave,

The man came running full-hearted,

"I can help you I believe."

"Cats, bats, you shall find.

Cakes, snakes, you can get.

You must now open your mind,

And get down to West St Market.

So to West St 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 rings,

Captain America in many shades.

There were even stalls selling wings

People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,

She seemed to be rather tall

I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.

I wondered if she was at all cool.

Before I could open my mouth,

She shouted, "For you, I have some bats!"

I headed towards her, to the south,

Past some cakes 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 hard a crackle

Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?