POUND DOG

A nature so affectionate it’s true -

she is a pleasure to come home to!

One wet nose, sniffing in delirious delight…

Two sparkling eyes are mischief – bright

four little legs, scampering through.

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Not always so well did I fair –

in the rain I tremble with cold,

enclosed in wire awaiting, waiting to be sold.

Won’t someone want me? Won’t someone care?

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Here comes a woman – she looks alright,

a boy and two girls are coming into sight…

I look at them so pleadingly –

‘Please God, let it be me’.

Paws reach upwards, ears pricked high.

Tall like a banner, sweeping to and fro –

‘I love you so desperately, how can you not know?’