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PITTER, PITTER, PAT

I can still hear the sounds of her tiny little feet,
   going Pitter,Pitter, Pat;
As my skips a beat...
The smile upon her face,
   with that puppy she embraced;
  A struggling little angel,
   as she walks along in place...

Pitter, Pitter, Pat;
  Come her tiny little feet,
as she runs into the bedroom,
   just to check on me...
with her little hand in mine, and a big smile on her face;
    "This won't very hurt" she say's,
While she's tapping on my knee...

The Beauty in her heart, an innocence so redeemed;
  Replaces all the darkness and ugly I have seen...

Pitter, Pitter, pat:
  A distant sound you see;
Although she's gotten older,
  Just the way she look's at me;
As if I, were worth her Beauty, smiles, and all her precious dreams...

Pitter, Pitter, pat:
  My heart still skips a beat;
I've found an innocence so long ago lost;
  In this little child smiling up at me...

Pitter, Pitter, Pat,  as she jumps into my lap;
   She'll soon be grown and on her own,
    Just a memory this will be;
As I happily reminisce of the sound so sweet to me,
  the Pitter, Pitter, Pat;
  Of her tiny little feet...

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 9/10/2012 8:38:00 PM
Terry, i like the sound of your poem... a very sweet thought... but missing your puppy is not a happy thought... one can relate... xox~pd
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Cunningham Avatar
Terry Cunningham
Date: 9/10/2012 8:57:00 PM
I'm confused as During this time my puppy was... Just a puppy.. he lived for 7 years.
Date: 8/22/2012 10:19:00 PM
This poem is dedicated to: Anna elibeth Drake; My Sunshine
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