Dream Poetry vs The Orange & White Cat

I wrote some fabulous poems in my dreams, just before I woke up. Fabulous. The poems were cryptic -- but interesting, short, and in a unusually spare style I have never used before. I can recall where the words were on the page, but not the words themselves. In the dream I was pleased the way they were working out. Then I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was an orange & white cat coming at me over the covers. The cat was running at about 45 mph, and he passed my head, strafing me with his tail. I heard him continue out of the bedroom, and he pounded down the hallway. Victory was his.