Tiptoeing through the garden,
Her eyes trained firmly on a fluttering leaf
She is a hunter, her mind set on her chosen prey
Reaching the leaf, she bats it with her paw and
Becomes a child enjoying a new toy
She is a paradox, a blend of gentle innocence
And ruthless killer.
Her paws, so soft and gentle
Conceal claws as sharp as needles
And, one day, she will play another game
The game of catching her first mouse.
Poetry » Nature Rated: K, English, Words: 81, Favs: 1, Published: 5/3/2001