More From the Poetry Corner

The Dapple-cat

Two dainty paws on the pine tree bark,

Two on the pine-needle floor,

And one white-tipped tail held high in the air.

Smoke-grey and sleek, as swift as a lark,

Creamy pale splotches like foam on the shore –

One little dapple-cat prowling there.

Sharp, bright green eyes, hunting for mice,

Scanning the dew-speckled grass

While pointed, silk ears hear each tiny squeak.

Sometimes, the dapple-cat is actually nice,

Curled as still as a figure of glass

Or lapping up milk looking ever so meek.

But the wild dapple-cat is nearly all free,

Strolling a walk with his tiger-perfect grace.

Haughty, and lazy, and completely alone;

The emerald eyes seem to hold every key,

All knowledge is seen in that face,

And music is heard in that sly purring tone.

The dapple-cat, all on his own…

~Faerynn M.