“cat”

Upon the sunlit sill she lies—  
An empress in a patch of gold,  
Her eyes two amber lanterns, wise  
And old, so old.  

Her velvet paws, with silent grace,  
Inscribe the quiet morning air,  
Whiskers spell secrets on her face  
Too soft to share.  

She dreams of jungles, green and wide,  
Yet purrs within her humble home;  
A hunter’s heart, concealed inside  
Soft tuft and dome.  

She stalks a string, becomes the breeze—  
A shadow slipping down the hall;  
Yet leaps to windowsills with ease  
And rules us all.  

From midnight prowl to noon repose,  
Her kingdom is the sun and mat.  
In every curling tail she shows  
The sovereign splendor of a cat.

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