Across the porch at candlelight,
A shadow slips unseen,
Two amber stars awake the night,
Two eyes of molten sheen.
He walks where silver moonbeams fall
And never makes a sound,
A velvet whisper by the wall,
A darkness moving round.
The old tales call him omen,
The superstitious fear,
But he knows no curse or warning—
He only wanders near.
He curls beside the window glass,
Where winter paints the pane,
And watches silent hours pass
Through moonlight, snow, and rain.
A midnight cat asks nothing more
Than warmth and room to roam;
He leaves a trail of gentle purrs
And makes the darkness home.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: October 8th, 2026 00:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: Poems for Spooktober.
Offline)
Comments2
Midnight cat brings to mind a black cat but also one that roams the night. Nicely written Matthew with great rhyme and good meter it flows well.
Matthew, you've made me want to curl up with a good book, a warm blanket, and a cat who's gracious enough to permit me a little space on my own furniture! 😂 Such a peaceful little escape from the madness of the world. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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