The cat's paw is in the wave.
The mouse ship is bound for the grave.
The sailors all are sleeping.
The sailors all will sleep.
The wolf maw is in the water.
The bobbing boat is a rabbit's daughter.
The water wolves are eating.
The wolfen all will eat.
The moth's wing is unfolding the sun.
The pink in the flower has barely begun.
The irises are singing.
The iris all will sing.
The heart's spring is in the meadow,
the harvesting will surely follow
what sowers all are bringing,
what lovers all will bring.
posted for real toads
Open Link Monday
Process Notes: Yes, I read myself to sleep with Yeats last night.
Image: Irises, by Vincent Van Gogh, 1889