Late one, a late night couching
Locked away with them
He could hear many things, definitely snoring
They all snored, all three of them
He loved them all, even their snoring

He hadn’t much for himself
Spent his days fixing and helping
A countenance very unmistakeble
Though many times appeared invisible to most
But when petted, most are addicted
His father, like most cats these days, left early
Many traits he did take from his absent prowler
They strut the same and play with their food the same
Never could tell if unknown that he was a father’s son
Fathered sons quickly into father’s missteps

Duchess was soft to the touch
a gentle mannered male specimen
Grown by feminine traits, never one to roar
or even purr loudly, or scratch angrily often
It would be easy to mistake him for a pussy
On this night, however, a starry night
The duke arose from within
This boy once scarred by fate
Rescued by dreams
Duke was to become King

4.1.2011