The Cat Poem by Christoph Praus
The Cat
Happy is she,
Careless and free,
Atop her redbrick fortress,
The day is her plaything,
To love, live and sing,
To lay in the Sun's sweet caress;
But the Moon also rises,
And she seeks other prizes,
She leaps into new purpose,
For the lust of the hunt,
To feed other wants,
An innocent's doom she has chose.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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4/27/2024 6:40:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
