Menacing Monkeys

The monkey sat,
claws clinging onto trees.
His eyes black and blurry
watching for prey.

The whole of the eye staring into souls,
ears sitting listening to your secrets.
Bristled fur, standing on his body,
swinging from tree to tree.

Teeth as sharp as knives
for such a small creature.
But could it fight a tiger?
There isn’t a chance.

At night the monkey sits
peacefully peeling bananas..
Awaiting the shooting stars.

His eyes close.
Midnight passes.
Waiting for the next adventure.