The Domestic Idol

by

Through a locked door, through a window, through a cat flap sunken in disrepair,
Out she travels abroad, and in she returns at all hours to rest.
Sleek and unaccountably quick, capable, never personally in disarray
Yet leaving chaos behind her, she is self-willed and elusive;
Over the mountain lies her especial domain, though her power is whimsical,
Her heart, very small, and its contents near impossible to divine.