Lightly the cat lies on the patio,
Recuperating from his stressful day.
Sunshine plays on his chocolate grey fur
And burnishes his chest of butter-cream.
What loving eye could realise a form
So suited to expressions of sheer ease?
What vivid mind could conjure up such strength
In muscled limbs of elegant display?
Of all the predators I've known, there's none
So beautiful and so disposed to play.
©2016 Michael Fraley
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