Gluttons of the Night

 

Midnight: all seems still outside,

Yet the darkness teems with life,

Hunting, munching, prowling, stalking

Unsuspecting prey or mate.

 

Squat brown toads lurk motionless,

Camouflaged against the rocks.

Neatly tucked in, patient, waiting,

Sharp-eyed cats prepare to pounce.

 

Foxes glide like phantom shadows

Through the dripping undergrowth;

By the stream the wild mink whistle,

Slinky, vicious, dangerous.

 

Hedgehogs scurry clumsily,

Peering under logs and leaves,

Knowing they will soon be finding

Feasting slugs a tasty meal.

 

Morning: all is still outside,

Night life snug in earthy nests;

Cats snooze in forbidden corners –

Airing cupboards, master's bed.

 

The furtive gluttons of the darkness,

Slugs and snails, have slimed away;

Only plants like lace green doilies

Flaunt the carnage of the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©1998 Barbara Godfrey & Black Cat Communications
All rights reserved