by Nick Gisburne
The cat perceives the power of the cards
Defiant, with a leap it leaves her hand
The servants, startled, stumble to the guards
Who clearly do not care to understand
Unmoved, around the table, bend the few
Determined that a reading must be done
For if her sight is guided, clear, and true
The fabric of their futures will be spun
The cat, now calm, keeps wickedness away
The cards are turned; they talk with every twist
As darkness falls on this delicious day
It offers what no mortal could resist
And as the Tarot guides their deepest wish
They order steak and mushrooms, not the fish
