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Jan 2017
At night the time is ripe enough to mate:
In close proximity, we duly prowl  
Thro’ slumb’ring streets advancing, cheek by jowl,
With caution like a tiger’s guarded gait.

For us, our claws convey both love and hate,
Into the sea, our songs we shriek and howl
Of treachery and longing hear us yowl;
Bewitching all with beauty is our fate.

For you, I am your ever-loving slave -
Upon your feline charms I’d happ’ly sup!
To have you by my side is all I crave,
Like cream tea we could lap each other up.

Oh! What loving phrases we could hiss
While resting by the hearth in endless bliss.
A work in progress.
Evie Brill Paffard
Written by
Evie Brill Paffard  York
(York)   
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