Canine Angel
All my dog wants to do.
Is walk into the poo.
She has to look down the hill
While she stands so very still.
Sometimes she is a pain.
She really hates the rain.
She frolics in the snow.
When she has to go,
She has her own style.
While pooping in a pile,
She looks at me to say.
Don’t you watch me; OK.
She has spots of black.
Over white upon her back,
She has this wonderful knack.
To keep her owner on track,
Heidi is her name from a game.
She still hides her face the same.
As if to say, you don’t see me.
Though she is easy to see,
An 85-pound dog is hard to hide.
Her heart is so full of pride.
Smart as an owl, she lets you know.
That it is pee or poo time to go.
She is now old and has her own meds.
Along with about five or more beds,
Heidi tells you when she wants love.
She is our canine Angel, from above.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
