For Parched Throats An Icy Fridge*

A hungry cat is on her way

To catch a rat and keep hunger at bay


But soon it reaches a desolate place
Where only at sands she does now gaze


"Where am I", she rumbles aloud 
Except for her own echo there was no sound


Thirsty now, she forgets the kill
A sip of water is all she wills


A caravan soon comes across a ridge
With folk n food n chilled water in a fridge


A saucer of milk and water aplenty
The fridge she admires, please do go and see




* Advt. of a Fridge with a Cat and a Desert in the Scene.
  This poem was written at the request of a student of Mass Media, 2011