My Poodle

She wriggled and struggled and kissed her way into my life

A small black lamb posing as a poodle pup

Oh I must have that little fidgety one I pleaded

Then waited  - breath baited for the reply . . . . .

After what seemed an eternity, the answer came

And YES!

That small black lamb was to be mine

Or I hers!

 

She screamed the entire, never-ending journey from her home to mine

Then tornadoed her way around it on her arrival.

That wild and woolly black lamb

She refused food, point blank - I fed her with a Sliver Spoon.

At first communication was a problem

I didn't speak her language --- yet she quickly learned to ignore mine

I'd stare into those "pools to drown in"

And wonder what she was thinking

I grew her coat for showing

I loved it

She hated it

Went through the motions to humour me

that stubborn black lamb.

I introduced her to agility that bouncy black lamb

She adored it --- was born for it

All that running, jumping, barking, picking pockets

Her favourite pastime, though not mine.

In spring, I cut off the coat of that small, black lamb

Long to grow

Quick to Cut

 

Now when I lay in that corner of MY bed which she allows me to keep

I hear her breathing

Jealously guarding her place, her golden prize

That small black, ferocious black, precious black lamb

The guardian of my heart.

The End

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