I quite imagine her in lace
Prowling about her house, pace
After pace.

What creatures paced that place
While yet it was a long-ago forest?
The now-faded echoes of wolves were
Then rumored quite the chorus.

Oh, down the banister which was once a branch,
the pitter-patter of marmots certainly did occur.
And ferrets, no doubt, chased their tails
In a subterranean labyrinth
(where now sits the washer/dryer)
Into a whirling swirl.

And squirrels, where the living room now is,
Probably zagged when they should have zigged.
And the dining room was a killing stone
Where a cougar once toothed blood and feasted big.

Aye, most like that cougar she now skulks about her built haven,
And though  adorned in her lace negligee quite sheer,
A great mistake would any critter make
To assume her to be a mere harmless, innocent dear.

Nay, she prowls awaiting the moment of action...
And to leap!
She didn’t put on that sexy negligee
Simply to go to sleep.