Sleeping Assassin

Soft butterscotch fur
and murderous claws,
sheathed within gentle paws;
a sharp reminder of her wild side.

Idly she stretches,
ochre eyes half closed.
A deceptive picture of lazy apathy,
ready to pounce
in a heartbeat
should the mood strike.

But afternoon fades to grey
and the deadly assassin sleeps,
twitching with bloody dreams
of unwitting prey
she’ll slay.

But not today.