The Thief of The Mistress

The thief of the Mistress

 In the house tops even in an inch of the herbs
She ransacks to have mice hiding elsewhere,
The cockroaches, the big mouse and the moule
Nothing is excluded from her everyday menu.
She has lots of greed and tempting race
By jumping and raising her paws;
She catches her prey in her wrist
By throbbing hundreds and hundreds bits.
She never hesitates to jot down her lackluster.
Not only her motion in her walks and sleep
She asks her kids to follow behind the lapse
What she could not see at darkened night.
In the meadow and grassland she is restless
Where the insects are hidden and crunched.
Forever thoughts she has about her master
By chuckling and nodding her head she responds
Calling her usual sound mewing silently goes
Around the well and the garden
To switch over her foes like human and bees
Whom she is worried to see like dancing
In the wake of motionless life of the star
And the planets in the system of revolving the earth
Like the cute voice in the dreams of a kid
Beside the life of a bee where the insect dies
Underneath the high tops from the meadow
As drawn from the ground for chorus like mew.







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