Tripping daintily across the lawn,
He stopped dead mid-stride,
Sinking down to the ground,
A stationary, static statue.
But try as he might
He had no control of his tail
Which twitched from left to right
While his st-ut-ter-ed mews
Were inaudible to my ears.
He crawled, chameleon-like,
Forward towards his prey,
A dear little dove of softest grey.
But the closer he came
The tail had a life of its own,
And the bird flew away ‘til another day.
©Denise G Allen, 04 December 2013 07:18
04/12/2013 at 7:33 am
But every once in a while he’ll catch that bird or other prey and deliver it to you as a present.. Won’t he? lol
04/12/2013 at 8:29 am
I love this… could picture the stalk of the cat… brilliant…
04/12/2013 at 1:00 pm
A lucky escape.
05/12/2013 at 2:09 am
Glad the bird lived to fight another day. 😀
05/12/2013 at 3:42 am
ha. good on the dove getting away…its fun to watch my cat…i dont know that he really has the killer instinct as much as he likes the chase…lol…getting too excited…smiles.