In the quiet of the night, they roam so free,
With paws so soft, they tread the silent earth,
Their eyes aglow with secrets yet to see,
These feline phantoms, guardians of the hearth.
Beneath the silver moon, their shadows dance,
Through alleyways, their presence felt but brief,
A whispered purr, a fleeting, graceful prance,
They weave through dreams, like autumn’s falling leaf.
Their fur, a tapestry of night and stars,
They hunt the mysteries that twilight keeps,
Such elegance in all their silent wars,
In every step, a story softly seeps.
Oh, whiskered wanderers of midnight streets,
Keepers of the nightâs enchanting lore,
In your quiet watch, the darkness greets,
The magic of the night forevermore.