My life lacked purpose ‘fore the day we met
Beneath the harvest moon you stood in wait
Your eyes, bright amber, blinking large and wet
I swooned at our encounter, called it fate,
Your hair, it shimmered dark as blackest night
You scorned me, yet I could not turn away
When suddenly you took off in a flight,
I swore that I would not be kept at bay
Your silhouette now low against the ground,
I squint to make you out in night’s dim haze
Hear rapid patters as you tread around
Your countenance a mirror of your ways
When last I do approach, you hiss and mewl
Alas, now to a cat I’ve played the fool!