Sponaneity’s No Longer Pejorative

Upon a gold mound I sat
These freshly minted blanks
Withered glare in from a cat
To punctuate page banks

Feline eyes they spurn my toys
Artistry on artifice crust 
I must go to ocean foaming joy
On rivers hewn by yellow dust

Attention pours its loving gaze
Fervent fields of infinite graze