Et Tu BruteA Poem by Norman223
During one of our weaker moments we thought that we had found
A way to get more exercise, so we'd adopt this rescued hound
He's a sort of giant Yorkie with boundless energy
With a flag-like tufted tail that wags so endlessly
Silky coated, floppy eared, and always soulful eyed
In between his manic playing, he never can decide
Whether to sit beside me, or snuggle up against my wife
(Life's so complicated in a trusting pooch' s life).
It's sad we sometimes feel we have to vandalise his toys
By removing all the squeakers, for we just can't stand the noise.
But when he sits or lies around, with a hand upon his head
He's content to stay quite quietly on settee, rug or bed.
Until he whines persistently and taps me on the knee
Which is just his way of saying , he needs to go out a pee.
But if anyone dares to pass our door, or worse still, ring our bell
We wish we'd saved a cat instead…. not a snarling brute from hell.
© 2017 Norman223
Shelved in 1 LibraryAdded on January 6, 2017
Last Updated on January 6, 2017
Essex, United Kingdom
AboutAt the age of 86, I now write as an optimistic exercise in keeping senility at bay . Humour and satire, are my preferred writing style,as I can have a legitimate moan about things without depressing.. more..
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