Tip Toe

Unsuspected you creep on the carpet
Your paws move in a slow caress
Your eyes moving like rolling marbles
And your back an arch in Paris

Slowly moving like a man in war
Your prey crouching in a corner
His back to yours and progress more
Never even making a sound

Tip toeing and ready to pounce
The tiny creature holds his breath
You swing your rear and inhale an ounce
The air filling your tiny lungs

The little fellow turns his head
Your teeth are his worst nightmare
He knows that he is soon to be dead
And you fulfull your night's desire

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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