Kit

Kit

Dark as the blackest night,

Eyes shining out of sight,

She watches, plotting, scheming,

The plan, known only to her meaning,

Delaying for her time is nearing,

She awaits forever leering.

Hidden in the mass of natures fort,

What caution we use, less then we ought,

The half caught glint of shining iris,

As golden and true as the prize of Isis,

She hides again with a blink of the eye,

Knowledge of her presence considered a lie.
Then a strike, a blow, a fearsome dash,

Out from her fort but as smooth as ash,

The calculated leap, never to miss,

Claws find her prey, subtle as a kiss,

Her prize found she returns finally to home,

Wishing, forsaking all others, just to be alone.

And now she lies, sweet as a kitten,

Not to be disturbed for fear to be bitten,

Loved in luxury, that sweet little Kit,

Finding home, our once lost Kitten Kat,

But off she heads again, that beautiful princess,

To find her prey, and stalk her land, would we expect anything less?

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