Paddy cat sleeps in curled peace
his repose deep in silent calm
If I could but know the dream he dreams . . .
Is he soft-padding over dewy grass
his nose leading
toward an unsuspecting mouse
trusting the dark, still night
While Paddy’™s soft paws fall
soundless on the bending blade?
Or does he dream of a titbit dropped
from my plate
A thing I was not want to do
and seldom gave?
Nor shall I ever know just what he dreamt
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Nor why his whisker twitched in quiet content.