Hunter

I thought I saw a budgie cooing soft,
the bars between creating nervous stress,
upon my feathered enemy's mistrust
and by my gentle stalking of this pest.

Too often I am robbed of time and place;
the hulking form of owners separate
the hunter from the hunted and disgrace
natures wicked instinct to berate.

Come quiet to your dinner hapless foe
and satiate my desire for you flesh!
I peer in through the bars with twitching nose
and meet a fierceness not supposed possessed.

My whiskers pluck'd out by this fowls foul beak
Run, wail, hiss and hide in anguished retreat

(Shakespearian style sonnet ABAB CDCD EFEF GG)