With Midnight came the gentle muse,
Sneaking in on soft cat paws.
Teasing out the thoughts in twos,
When musing mews and sheathes its claws.
It purred into my sleepy mind,
Curling round my drowsy smile,
Gave me new ideas to find,
Whispered peace with feline style.
One mind’s eye open and silently aware,
One slit-pupiled eye barely closed, but awake,
The Midnight Muse of there, not there,
I pray these words, my soul will make.
Before it renders me catatonic and stops,
I’ll slide into delicious, fur-tipped thought.
Twirl my whiskers and lick my proverbial chops,
And blink-less, think, of the lines uncaught.
Then settle into soft, rumbling slumber,
Assauged, but only somewhat mollified.
Sweet feline thoughts of infinite number,
Guard my dreams ‘gainst pensive mice inside.
~ C.L.R. ~ © 2007