Red squirrel
It’s eyes are darker than the night
The fluffy fur is spikey like a pin that will pierce through your skin
The nails are sharper than brick walls
Its tail twitches when it runs
It scratches’ you when you annoy him
Red fire skin
The tail is all the time standing up
The Maine ****
Snow-covered, the fierce cat awaits.
It’s eyes grew, as it stares,
the ears pointed up elegantly to the sound of squeaky mice,
wired whiskered fanned out from his small pink nose.
A mouth caged with white daggers, or the wires of a porcupine.
Cold legs wrapped in furry tights
and sharp talons that grip onto the oak tree.
Sword Fish
Silky-smooth, the sword fish glides through the water.
Its eyes are like lasers, cutting through the ocean.
The scales glimmer of the sun like they are thousands of tiny mirrors.
Its fin wagging franticly,
Like a bird in the sky,
The sword fish turns on the jets and dashes through the deep
blue sea.
Its sword at the front sharpens itself,
And it prepares to take out their prey.
The wild cat
Sun shined, the wild cat slept.
Its eyes are as white as snow.
The ruffled fur like a boulders back.
Itching its wiry whiskers.
The wily wandering wild cats wandered through wilderness.
Stretching its worn out legs.
Warm legs on a summers day.
With claws that dig into the green grass.
The cats fur drips as the rain drops.
Its eyes are like rolling marbles.
The ears are pointed like a knife.
Listening the precise predators,
The scared cat scratches,
Lifting its damaged bloody, leg.
The cold body trapped in it’s warm fur
And vicious claws that grip on the spotted trees.
The axolotl
Under water, the axolotl lies.
It’s tail like a pink eel swimming behind it.
The red frills wiggling in the water like worms trying to dance.
Hiding from predators in its pink pot,
Smiling at the seaweed, teeming with life,
It’s immobile leg doing nothing.
Endlessly staring with its blue eyes,
trying to slumber.
The wild cat
The fluffy ferocious wild cat perched on a mossy rock
Its eyes are as white as a fresh glass of milk
Its teeth are as sharp as a sword and as tough as an elephants tusks
Ruffling its whiskers, Waiting to find and pounce on its dinner
Licking it brown and blond ruffled fur
Its tummy rumbling as nothing but a fly goes by
Twitching its ears trying to hear at twig snap
And it rests on the soft grass
The Eagle
On sunny afternoons the eagles wait Dead still, watching and waiting.
It’s beak as colourful as a ripe banana.
The eyes focusing into the distance like a camera lens,
the pupil like an endless black hole.
Carefully camouflaging into the trees, almost as easily as taking a breath.
The evil eagle screeches whilst swooping,
It’s flaps its sore wing
Waiting for assistance as it grips onto a tree like a helpless koala.
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