St Maurice's High School: Jo-Anne Moffat

Tiger

He slowly, silently stalked fowards,
Paws like oversized golfclubs.
He waited to pounce,
Growling menacingly.
His mouth baring rows of daggers,
His golden eyes ferocious.
He shoots like a bullet from a gun,
Away into the wilderness,
His red and black body screaming danger.

by Jo-Anne Moffat