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For the Writer's Cramp contest, for National Cat Day |
| He is smoky grey and white held closely in her arms he won’t approach as if to bite like cats found in barns on farms. He has an entertaining purr And a quick and quiet run He’ll use your leg to groom his fur And mew for a treat when he’s done. He’ll make friends with mice and sparrows And bring them home alive And when his gaze narrows It’s not to hunt but to survive. |