Poor Tilly
She looks at you
With those deep brown eyes
Asking a silent question
Wanting no lies
Am I here to stay
Is this my home
No more to wonder
No more to roam
Her tummy is poorly
Didn't make the door
Her face is a picture
She had messed on the floor
Its ok girl
I try to re-assure
But she is frightened
Wont come through the door
Who would have beat her
Its not her fault
She is such a clean girl
Without any doubt.
So i made a fuss
Coaxed her back in
Told her dont worry
It isnt a sin
The door was locked
You couldnt get to the grass
So smile with those brown eyes
Your home at last.
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