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feline folly- a poem revised

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> FELINE FOLLY

>

> Hark, the true folly is that of the cat,

> Crouching low by a creamy milky pan:

> Poised to drink from this sweet delicious vat.

> But he leaps at a fly on the wall! Can

> This be likened to man’s monkey mind?

> Instead of imbibing nectarine Grace,

> He jumps at worldly pleasure, only to find

> He's flat in mire with down trodden face.

 

> Alan

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