The cat, his Majesty, comes down the stair,
In the dim winter sunlight I see his gold hair,
He wafts down the stair, a soft padded gait,
With a magical essence my mind can’t create.
In a flash, just a moment, he sifts by my thigh,
He looks back at me with a glance, very sly.
That magic, his haze, it’s all just a fog,
Now he’s sitting there, eating, a big fat hog.
In the dim winter sunlight I see his gold hair,
He wafts down the stair, a soft padded gait,
With a magical essence my mind can’t create.
In a flash, just a moment, he sifts by my thigh,
He looks back at me with a glance, very sly.
That magic, his haze, it’s all just a fog,
Now he’s sitting there, eating, a big fat hog.
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