Sonnet for Max the Gray Cat

There strides a cat with fur of stormy hue,
A sovereign gaze that pierces through the day,
Where amber eyes reflect the twilight’s dew,
He rules his realm in quiet, velvet sway.

His velvet paws that tread with whispers soft,
In moonlit halls he prowls, a shadow’s quest,
To chase the stars that drift in heavens loft,
Then curls, a crescent moon, in peaceful rest.

By sunbeams crowned, he lounges on his throne,
A king content to watch the world he owns,
Yet leaps with grace where dusk and dawn have flown,
To dance with winds that rustle autumn’s tones.

So let his tale in whispered hearts be told—
This noble gray, with mischief forged in gold.