I lie alone
in peaceful slumber
dreaming now
of silent thunder

torrents of rain
which drown out the cry
of the pitiful tom
who curled up to die

softly she slips
through shadows and cracks
and cautiously climbs
over railway tracks

the feline shape
sleek with desire
timidly pads
towards a roaring fire

the rain soon thins
and breaks begin to form
in the overcast grey
it’ll soon be dawn

in his weakened state
the tom opens an eye
he’s not quite dead
he again starts to cry

this time he’s heard
by a meandering tramp
who finds him there
all soggy and damp

he picks up the cat
feeds him whiskey and milk
and not before long
his fur shimmers like silk

after a while
the tom walks away
he’s on his way home
but first to stalk prey

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