Sunday word hunter: poetry and nonsense,  To beloved ones

My cat

Attentive to barks,
Her ears turn and head.
Yellow eyed marshmallow,
I wished to devour.
She plainly lies on me,
When the beans I need to clean.
Her warmth makes it harder to bear,
the rest of my being,
Getting chilly to wind.

Will I disturb this spirit of dark?
Not in a while.
Let her do her evil arts.
I’ll remain spelled to pet and scratch.

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