Yeah, because what the internet really needs right now

...is another perishing cat poem.

I really should be doing my NaNoWriMo (nearly 25,000 words in, thanks for asking).

It's actually been quite liberating just writing without stopping every five minutes to go back and edit. I'd reccommend doing NaNo for this reason alone.

The story has changed almost completely out of recognition. My original concept was going to be set in a very small setting with just a few characters. Within just a few paragraphs of starting, it changed to a much large setting and had loads more characters - most of whom are just background to be fair, so don't really figure in the story itself, but they were never meant to be there.

It's also taking much longer simply to type in the words than I expected. If things are flowing, I can get about 2,500 words entered in a stint of a few hours.

It's proving to be a really good exercise in discipline though. If I want to hit the target I have to make my word count each day. End of. I'm not 100% conviced that I am going to make it, but I am going to give it my best shot.

Anyway, back to that cat poem

He is a cat of the edges,
Of High places and ledges,
Of four-clawed defences,
Of walking on fences.

He is all about sneaking,
Of nosing and peeking,
Of staring and thinking,
Of slow languid blinking.

He is of playfully pawing,
Of lightning fast clawing,
Of suddenly chasing,
Of restlessly pacing.

He is of stalking and pouncing,
Of walking and bouncing,
Of stretching and leaping,
Of suddenly sleeping.

He is of dreamily twitching,
Of magic and witching,
Of warning and prowling,
Of warring and yowling.

He is a cat of the edges,
Of High places and ledges,
Of fireside and mat,
Of contradictions, this cat.