The Cat of St. Ives (Part 1)

I'm publishing the beginning extract of a poem I started a long time ago, while I was living in Luton. The first line came to me while I was half-listening to the radio. They were talking about "puzzles" that a really only tricks, and the famous "As I was going to St. Ives..." problem came up.

Suddenly, the first line of my poem popped into my head, and I had to write it. Here it is, presented unedited. Maybe this will be my encouragement to finally finish it.

The Cat of St. Ives (Part I)

As I was running from to St. Ives,
I met a cat with seven lives 
Who bid of me the time of day 
and offered company a way. 
I thought it kind and did agree 
For her to walk a while with me 
And as we passed the time away 
She told me of her life's affray 
In dark of night and silent day 
From mankind's trials to cast away. 
We made our way past Hellesveor 
and on the day toward Zennor 
where, in The Tinners, toward the eve 
I called my friend for a reprieve 
and though the landlord doubted me 
my coin was good enough for he 
to let my familiar and I
to spend the night the fire by.
Twas then I saw the furred mark
more visible in gloom and dark
that told me my companion
had lost a life, if only one,
and thrust I to request the lay 
if not too much, of fateful day.

Please, enjoy. I welcome criticism, but I mean criticism. If you don't have anything to say that would help make this better, probably best not to say anything.