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FIVE LITTLE EYES

Friday, September 27, 2013

IN HANS' OLD MILL HIS THREE BLACK CATS
WATCH HIS BINS FOR THE THIEVING RATS.
WHISKER AND CLAW, THEY CROUCH IN THE NIGHT,
THEIR FIVE EYES SMOLDERING GREEN AND BRIGHT.
SQUEAKS FROM THE FLOOR SACKS, SQUEAKS FROM WHERE.
THE COLD WIND STIRS ON THE EMPTY STAIR,
SQUEAKING AND SCAMPERING, EVERYWHERE.

THEN DOWN THEY POUNCE, NOW IN, NOW OUT,
AT WHISKING TAIL, AND SNIFFING SNOUT.
WHILE LEAN OLD HANS HE SNORES AWAY,
TILL PEEP OF LIGHT AT BREAK OF DAY.
THEN UP HE CLIMBS TO HIS CREAKING MILL,
OUT COME HIS CATS ALL GREY WITH MEAL.
JEKKEL, AND JESSUP, AND ONE-EYES JILL.

Just had to pass this poem along to my cat loving friends. I thought is cute and couldn't figure out the 5 eyes till the end. Have a great weekend everyone. Get some relaxation.
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Joan
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