They float on by like they have elfin wings,
They dance and prance and whirl off in the gloom,
They, with a scuffle, soccer kick the broom,
Then flutter like white moths, or other things,
In silence gleaming, each together springs, —
These glowing glimmering shapes then promptly zoom
Through darkened halls into another room,
Above them something croons and softly sings.
They’re not those long black stockings on the bed,
So languorous and silken and so sleek
That some may love far more than tidy whites
Who fling themselves into ones arms instead, —
My sweet bright sneaker paws, who swiftly streak
Like Ariel’s kin in midnight’s wild delights.
About a snowshoe Siamese and a seal point Siamese.
With sincere apologies to Missy Pong Ping of Seal Point, et al.
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