Way down in South America, beneath the evening star,
Through the deep velvet jungle creeps the painted jaguar.
By the moon’s light her face peers round the edges of a dream,
The glimmer of a calm intent in eyes of palest green.
Her painted fur, her languid tail, her sheathed and ivory claws –
And no-one in the jungle hears the soft beat of her paws.




Jumping Jaguar