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The full fallow moon was hung low in July
 As white stars and fireflies lit the night sky,
A sight to behold was the feline bold'
Drawing sighs from the violin, his arms did enfold
He played on the breeze to the harvest to come
As An orchestra of crickets rasped to each thrum.'
He raised now the tempo and thought
 Of a dish and a spoon that had shone
In delighted dedication....As off they did run!
And so he made ‘paws' quaffing wine from a tun,
Then throwing the fiddle up tight to his chin
He forgot about thinking in pursuit of more din!
The cow swished her tail to the music he made
As the dog danced the polka, through a small garden maze
He played till the pearly dawn light did show
Then the crickets fell silent; and the bird calls did grow!
He slept where he fell, to bother no more...
As a ship makes its way to the safest of shores.’
As he turns in his slumber, as she rolls o'er the waves
He would hold no regrets ‘till the ending of days.'

©Joe Maverick 12-10-13

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