doreen123 fleisch Poet Rhyme

My Dog My King

My dog moves slow,
and his face is white.
His body is ill,
but I know he will fight.
My dog is weak,
but he knows his name.
His body once strong,
things are not the same.
My dog’s life is long at fifteen years old.
He has little time left,
As we have been told.
My dog sleeps most o@ the day.
I don’t ever want him to go away.
My dog was once thirty-nine pounds.
He’s starting to look like a di@erent hound.
My dog likes the backyard so he can roam.
He will always be the king of our home.

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Beata Agustin September 12, 2026 at 3:53 AM Thanks for sharing this... exposing your thoughts through your unique poetic style. Welcome to Poetry Soup. I welcome you with the love of the Lord, expressed by John 3:16 of the Bible, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Be blessed.

Alison A Smith nee Howarth September 8, 2026 at 4:57 AM A tender, heartfelt rhyming tribute to a much-loved old companion. The repeated “My dog” gives the poem a gentle, prayer-like devotion, while the simple couplets make its grief and gratitude feel immediate and sincere. “King of our home” is an especially warm closing image—honouring his place in the family despite his frailty.