For Poppy LongWatcher StormBringer on Valentine's Day

Our Dog...

Each day when it's anighing three
Miss Poppy looks at the clock,
Then proudly brings my stick to me
To mind me of our walk.
And in her doggy rapture she
Does everything but talk.

But since I lack her zip and zest
My old bones often tire;
And so I ventured to suggest
Today we hug the fire.
But with what wailing she expressed
The death of her desire!

He gazed at me with eyes of woe
As if to say: 'Old boy,
You mustn't lose your grip, you know,
Let us with laughing joy,
On heath and hill six miles or so
Our legs and lungs employ.'

And then her bark was stilled to a sigh
She flopped upon the floor;
But such a soft old mug am I
I threw awide the door;
So gaily, though the wind was high
We hiked across the moor.


Robert Service