My Poodle

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.