Her white elegant paws cross the rough green grass,
Her ears pricked so slightly that you can hardly see them move at all,
The silver whiskers shimmering in the darkness,
Her eyes smoldering one yellow, one green.
Suddenly she leaps and pounces,
at all the gathering mice,
She takes one in her small shark teeth,
and hurries through the night.
Down alley ways she walks,
high upon the wall,
her brown tail is raised in triumph,
as she passes the silver moon.
But when the golden sun goes by,
in the wink of an eye,
she comes back,
to curl up in bed,
until the moon rises again.
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