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Friday, August 1, 2014

Cat Poem #3

I wrote this in trochaic trimeter.  3 is a special number here.  Can you hear the cat's footsteps? 


He climbed the high top heights
It was his royal rights
Instinct, no inner fights

He landed without heed 
His alignment was creed
Measured with lightning speed

He slept under a rut
Protruding a fat gut
Too lazy now to hunt