There was a young man who stole this book.
I put him in a pot to cook;
His boiled remains
Were flushed down the drains;
Surprising how little time it took.
Don’t be fooled by the French giraffe
Stealing this book is no mere gaffe
For if you make Kate
A tiny irate
She’ll be sure to get the last laugh
These are all fantastic! I sent them to my designer and she agrees, I can’t choose just one. We are going to do a set with each of them. I certainly have enough books to merit the print run.
I read them to my mother, and we laughed and laughed.
You are the most brilliant group of people. I knew I came to the right place.
Thank you so much!
That being said, if inspiration strikes you, keep them coming. We won’t go to press for a while yet.
A giraffe would sooner wear a beret
than a friend of Kate’s her trust betray
So read this book and then return it
or on your head, the beret? She’ll burn it.
Return this book you fushing feef,
to my astonished eyes, in disbelief.
Cats are cuddly, soft and furry;
Steal this book and feel my fury.
A little long, but I got on a roll. 
This charming tome and words within
In fairest Kate’s library dwell.
So if your thoughts are drawn to sin,
And tempted by the Devil’s spell,
Take heed these warning words, I plead,
Ignore them at your deepest woe,
For though you merely seek to read,
You’ve sealed your fate and cast your foe.
A winsome cat, with grace and fire,
Beret’d giraffe, as whimsy’s gift
Will creep from page and vent their ire
When once you sleep, your end is swift.
Just change my typo ‘descrate’ to ‘desecrate.’ 
Shakespeare’s plays were never taken,
Even by Sir Francis Bacon.
Mmm…Francis Bacon…
This page is the beginning but please heed my warning, friend:
Should you think to take this book, it soon will be your end.
Here are good writes
The best ever wroten
But them what would thief them
Will surely be smoten.
This ain’t your book, you did not earn it
Nor those others on yonder walls
‘tis Kate’s, and if you don’t return it
She’ll bruise your ovaries or balls
mmm
Return this book
Dear Sir, I beg you
Lest I come
And freakin’ frag you
A book is like a dear, dear friend
Hence I neither borrow nor lend.
To steal a friend is to make him die,
I beg you, friend, let this one lie.
To see this day might make you laugh,
A fine beret on a giraffe.
But careful be to only look.
I’ll murder he who takes my book.
This is turning into the best project ever! You guys crack me up. They are all fantastic.
I am meeting with the graphic designer tomorrow. It is the first official meeting for us. It is going to be great.
Thank you.
May pages wear and bindings crack,
The reader’s delight to betoken.
But if a thief should take this book,
Not just the book’s spine shall be broken.
Or:
Here’s the only verse within this book,
Kate wrote the rest in prose.
Pay for this book, for should you steal,
She’ll punch you in the nose.
Camelopard, Kitty, and Kate
Would have finders and borrowers know:
Return it, and we’ll compensate
With a tip of our high-up chapeau.
Let me channel some Ogden Nash…
The End.
…of the lend.
Rehome
this tome.
There once was a reader named Kate
Her bookishness no one could rate
Who borrows this tome
And sends it not home
Will suffer a terrible fate.