Beware the Coming of the Minx

She’s not averse to forty winks
but afterwards she wakes and blinks
and to her privy corner slinks
As enigmatic as the Sphinx
she sits atop her tray and thinks
up some mischievous new high jinks
The sound of Mum preparing drinks
Dad washing dishes in the sinks
“So tired of waiting” wail the Kinks
This rings a bell with hungry Minx
who from her empty food bowl shrinks
as ice in Bombay Sapphires clinks
It’s not the time for forty winks
Young mice frolicking in the pinks
beware the coming of the Minx!