WINNER ^^
Nix Jazz Tempesedo wrote:⊲⊲ Username ...Nix Jazz Tempesedo
⊲⊲ Cat's Name ...Acer
⊲⊲ Gender ...Female
⊲⊲ Personality ...Acer is an intelligent cat, she takes great pride in her wits and considers it her best weapon, she often knows just how to manipulate others in order to get her desired effect and has no problem in taking people down a notch if she feels it's needed. She also comes across as very cynical which can work for or against her and many have described her as being fairly pessimistic and always frowning however anyone who's known her for any length of time will say this is false. She will often smile and compliment life, especially in her favorite season of Autumn or Fall. She's often described as hyperactive in the fact she is simply unable to sit still for any length of time and greatly enjoys riding fallen leaves in their Autumn decent or chasing the breathy winds over the land. Acer is a cat of impulse and is often fickle in her desires and pursuits, becoming obsessed in one activity then changing her mind in the quick of the moment. One never quite knows what to expect when they meet Acer.
⊲⊲ Acer's Favorite Place ...⊲⊲ Poem ...
By Me.The winter winds are coming dear cat, and they are coming fast
The dark of the snow is coming dear cat,
and the warmth never lasts.
The trees will drop their burdens dear cat,
and reach with frail hands.
The season of change is coming dear cat,
prepare for barren lands.
But do not be afraid dear cat,
enjoy the season of fall.
But enjoy the beautiful colours dear cat,
the green, red and golden scrawl.
But revel in the joyous laughter dear cat,
the laughter that lifts above all.
But feel the sweetness of Autumn dear cat,
for soon will come the call.
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By Clinton ScollardThe apple seeds are black at core;
The linden leaves, like fairy ore,
Shed the effulgence of their gold,
Paving the pathways green before.
More plaintive grows the thrush's pipe;
The quince's cheek is yellow ripe;
And the smooth pallor of the pear
Reveals, like dawn, a crimson stripe.
The minstrel wind behind the hill
Above its strings is never still;
Autumn through all the brooding land
Works the rich wonder of its will.
As in a necromancer's glass,
We watch the radiant pageant pass,
Wood waving banner back to wood
Across the severing seas of grass.
Forgetful what the hours presage,
We feel that we have plucked a page
From the untroubled Book of Dream,--
A leaf from out the Golden Age!
⊲⊲ Currently Owned ...None.