Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
The following is a piece of writing submitted by marlowe kitt on January 16, 2011
"I made this poem the centerpiece for a framed-art Christmas present for my mother in law, with a picture of her cat next to it. The poem came to me one morning while watching Nietzsche, my gray cat, stare hungrily at a bird (I believe it was a crow, not a lark, but kudos for poetic license!) Poetry and art in a frame = modest and inexpensive but priceless Christmas present"
The Beast of the Bedroom Moor
Fluffy cat, with your cotton mouseAnd your feather on a string
Who prowls through the shade of this den called “house”
And for supper mewls and sings
Through meshed window pane with eyes entranced
You behold the singing lark;
Do you long for the days when with Death you danced
As the Hunter in the park?
For there were you found with a box for a den,
In the shade of an oak to bask.
Do you remember those days? Do you remember when
The hunt was your only task?
And though but a kitten eyes agape
And full of the midnight moon,
Not mouse nor lark nor scurrying shape
Resisted your hunter’s croon.
Go now to your task, who from dark den bounds
Through the eyelid of closet door
To pounce on the fleece cow’ring on the ground
From the Beast of the Bedroom Moor.
And as the first beams of the Autumn Day
With contented cat eyes merge,
Knead ‘tween your claws the hapless prey,
Your purr the fleece’s dirge.
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