In the quiet corners of the night,
Whiskers twitch with playful delight.
Silent paws tread on a silver beam,
Dancing softly in a dream.

Eyes like lanterns, bright and wide,
Glimmers of secrets they cannot hide.
With every purr, a story untold,
A tapestry woven in whispers of old.

Gentle hunters of the shadowed hours,
Masters of their midnight towers.
In their gaze, worlds unfold,
Mysteries wrapped in fur of gold.

Yet in their stillness lies their art,
Silent symphonies of the heart.
Guardians of dreams, they softly tread,
Through the moonlit paths we all dread.