The Golden Cat

Great is the Golden Cat who treads

The Blue Roof Garden o’er our heads,

The never tired smiling One

That Human People call the Sun.

He stretches forth his paw at dawn

And though the blinds are closely drawn

His claws peep through like Rays of Light,

To catch the fluttering Bird of Night.

He smiles into the Hayloft dim

And the brown Hay smiles back at him,

And when he strokes the Earth’s green fur

He makes the Fields and Meadows purr.

His face is one big Golden smile,

It measures round, at least a mile—

How dull our World would be, and flat,

Without the Golden Pussy Cat.