Do not be fooled by the easy manner
His apparently warm, affectionate nature
The well-groomed, tailored coat
Perfect hair and manicured whiskers
Nor his domesticated demeanour
Do not be taken in by his love of warmth
And cosy, comfortable, curled position
Nor his sleepy, silent gaze
As if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth
Always dozing during daylight
And rubbing round the legs at feeding time
Do not believe for one moment
That this carefully managed image,
This cool, collected character
Is at all what he purports to be
For Sam is a double-agent
And licensed to kill
A sleeper, hiding his true identity
Lying low until Agent Moonlight gives the signal
Called from retirement
To carry out his next assignment
Working under cover of the darkness
For another operation in a foreign field
Passing through the portal
Turning his collar to the night
Nose, ears and senses all alert
Carefully checking his equipment
The teeth, the paws and claws
Razor-sharpened, glinting
Ready for rapid deployment
Sleek, silent, he slips away
Without a backward glance
Leaving his safe house, out on patrol,
Round his marked and guarded territory
Eyes narrowed, focused
Single-minded, ruthless
A professional, working alone
Driven by his wild, instinctive urges
To taste fresh flesh and warm blood
Each evening before the curfew falls
This murderous, vicious assassin
Creeping killer in the night
Will make short work
Of anything that scurries and squeaks
Briefly before it dies
Life throttled from its throat
Then brought back trophy-style
To be chewed upon the killing floor
The fur and bones left undigested
Mission accomplished, victims abandoned
Honour and appetite satisfied
His shady, secret life left behind
He wanders slowly back to base
Reports in for the evening
Meanders to his sleeping quarters
Undertaking thorough ablutions
Before, contented, curling tail beneath
Setting head upon his paws
To take his after-dinner nap
Safely resuming his old identity
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012
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