The Little Pup.

I wrote this to build empathy in my grandchildren.

The sky was dark and grey and heavy.
The snow came thick as night-time fell
"Why it's enough" an old man murmured
'To make the devil stoke up well
For sure, this cold will reach to hell"

And so with envy for the devil
Which must have made the devil snigger
He walked along the empty street
A lonely solitary figure
As every falling flake grew bigger

Now the street stood long and empty
Now the wind much harder blew
And for while that was the picture
Until a shape came into view
Daring the cold which colder grew

A little dog. Why, just a pup!
No bigger than the doorstep stood
His face one lost and lonely look
His legs moved stiff like sticks of wood
As cold wind cut through flesh and blood

His big brown eyes could barely see
His legs could barely hold his form
Yet still he watched the burning lights
Within the houses save and warm
A shelter from this cruel storm

He stopped and gave a plaintive cry
A tiny mournful pleading wail
As he heard laughter from a house
When snow it turned to stinging hail
And he lost feeling in his tail

His little heart had gone the limit
His head and tail both hanging low
For there was no protection from it
This constant wind and endless snow
There was no place for him to go

Then he fell where he was standing
The eyes closed slowly in his head
There an old man came and saw him
And looking down he softly said
"It's not a night a dog should tread"

Saying so he picked him up
And passed his coat around him tight
And pressed him close to make him warm
To hide him from this cruel night
The dog, eyes closed, breathed soft and quiet

The storm it seemed to scream in anger
The hail around them bounced and broke
'We'll soon be safe in a nice warm room'
The man looked down as he softly spoke
"So the wind can blow and the devil stoke"