The Night Belongs To Cats

Most revellers have long since fled,
And I, alone, am out of bed,
Walking the streets so still and dead,
The night belongs to cats.

See lordly Toms on high survey,
Nocturnal realms where they hold sway,
While others go in search of prey,
The night belongs to cats.

As mournful yowls fragment the night,
And deep in shadow, eyes shine bright,
I wander where I have no right,
This night belongs to cats.

© Graeme Williams 2012



The ACEO is a picture painted by my wife, Chris, specifically for this poem. If you want to check out more of her work you can find it under her facebook page at  Artistic Originals.

Counting Sheep

If I, at night, should find I cannot sleep,
Then, in extremis, I try counting sheep,
And if I’m helpless with anxiety,
Merinos are the best variety.

© Graeme Williams 2012

This poem is also available on www.poemhunter.com. Photograph taken from Alex E. Proimos' photostream on flickr and used under the creative commons licence.