On velvet paws

Your kit sits quietly on your knee
While you brush and groom her silken fur,
Accepts a ribbon around her neck,
Subsides into a contented purr:

 A perfect house cat. Yet I saw her
Yesterday, creeping over the verge,
Belly to earth, lifting paw by silent paw,
Living her own life,gripped by the urge,

The killing urge,to do as cats must do.
No prey I saw - no bird, vole or mouse -
But she sprang, clapped paws twice,leapt,and slew
A cricket! Oh, velvet killer of your house!

A migrant at the Glebe

I was checking the beans at the Glebe when something else caught my eye; a newly hatched migrant hawker dragonfly, so new that the veins on its wings were not yet full of blood and traceable. The wings themselves seemed as delicate as a bubble but they would soon be taking this creature at high speed around the garden and riverbank, snapping up mosquitoes.

Welcome, Mr Dragonfly!