Catkin the Wall Flower
Catkin hides her wispy face,
A bloom of softness, barely a trace.
With petals fine, in shadow’s shade,
She whispers secrets, half-conveyed.

Her sway is subtle, like a breeze,
A murmur; lost among the trees.
Her eyes, moss-green, with a hidden gleam,
Reflect a world both kind and keen.

To know her warmth is to be charmed,
A friend who leaves you; unharmed.
But soft beneath her downy guise,
Lies cunning masked by tender eyes.

Velvet touch and fleeting glance,
A dancer caught in an unplanned dance.
she blends with shadows, sways with trees,
A heart that flutters within the breeze.

Gentle words she speaks, but slyly spun,
her charm disarms before she’s done.
With eyes of intent and a crafty gleam,
She weaves the world into a dream.

She clings to walls, with a quiet grace,
Blends with stillness, and leaves no trace.
Velvet touch and gentle hue,
A flower unseen, yet steeped in dew.

A friend who listens, sweet and kind,
Yet leaves you doubting peace of mind.
For Catkin knows the art of guile,
A subtle turn, a secret smile.

Both tender comfort and quiet scheme,
The line between is razor-keen.
Beware the warmth, the downy veil,
For under softness, reality might pale.

Beware the touch of Catkin’s bloom,
For beauty cloaks a quiet doom.
A feline spirit who has walked the mile,
Her charm disarms with a slanted style.

Though she is light, both fleet and fair,
A momentary figure, barely there,
Her shadow lingers, her schemes complete—
Catkin—a friend you have to meet.