I ached, looking from the hill,
The sun would hurry home,
This place never thought up before-
This place that would be left alone,

And as the oranges and
Pinks turned to onyx quilts,
The cat rubbed against my tennis shoes,
Purring at a friendship built.

Cream and cereal I rendered-
Pulled from aether will,
And a bowl and spoon and saucer, too,
For each to have their fill,

But the cat took all the cream,
And said "It's just some cream",
But dry is my cereal,
And this is just a dream.