In Ulthar

In shadowed Ulthar, where the moonbeams fall
Draping the chimneys with a silver pall
Where the people work by light of day
And trade with the merchants from down Hatheg way
In Ulthar, one must all cats respect
No cat in Ulthar ever knows neglect
For the cats of Ulthar are special ones
Old ones that drowse by the light of the sun
Young ones that sing when the moon fills the sky
Wise ones that gaze with intelligent eye
Kittens that caper on slanted rooftops
Teasing the moon till the Old Man cries "Stop!"
Leaping and climbing from gable to gable
Till rooftops are seething with calico and sable
Until finally, the sunrise
When they narrow their bright eyes
Down from rooftops they gambol
And homeward they amble
To nap on the hearth till the sun should go down
And the gibbous moon rises on their little town
And the star-pinned night sky will send out its call
In shadowed Ulthar, where the moonbeams fall

© 1991 Alan Peschke