Bichon Frise
I did not wish to meet today
A strange dog coming at a run
I for sure thought I was done
I did not know if it would get me
‘Help, help’, was my plea
I saw the girl at its heels
She was so fast, like lightning peels
She caught the dog by its collar
Right before I gave a holler
I found it had the same name as me
Spelt neither with an “i” or an “e”
Maddy was the dog I met
She still is a large threat
But Jane will never leave me alone
Lest I trip while running and break a bone
BICHON FRISE
Bichon frise or is it curly lapdog you prefer?
Pray, do make it known
Descendant of a water spaniel originating in ancient times
In the Mediterranean area
Used as barter by sailors
Your solid white coat is silky profuse
Not silky confuse
I get it now
You are prized for your lively intelligence
And is usually groomed and trimmed
To give a “powder puff” appearance.
I’ve got this dog – a mix for sure
Its pedigree is far from pure
Its mother was a mix herself
A Shihtzu - Bichon little elf
Its father was a tramp – a bum
A mix of everything to come
That leaves my dog a unique breed
The kind of dog that no man needs
Because its mother had this fling
My dog’s a Shihtz-On Everything
mdailey 6/26/12
My friends Rosie, Hammond and me
Had insomnia and were in the kitchen one Sunday
Discussing The Nuclear Waste Medicine Convention
We wined and dined and had a good old time,
Hammond in his Spandex boxer shorts and
me feeding Tid- Bits of Listerine soaked tissue
to my crazy, vacuum salesman biting Bichon Friese,
"Are we going to go to that gig?" we all asked eath other
After all, the convention was held on a UFO.
"Ahh, heck, maybe we should go," we deliberated
"Otherwise we may be in Dire Straits and infiltrated!"
So hence we went- to the Nuclear Waste Medicine Convention
Speaker talked about lunar craters and wormholes.
Me, I was drifting off to sleep, as Rosie
held her hands to her ears as if in pain-
Hammond asked,"What is there to gain? Let's go
and blow this idiot convention."
There was nothing to gain except a fun way to go
Riding around in a UFO.
A. Green
Manhattan hi-rise nestles
a yawning head-in-the-clouds woman
ready for another consumptive day.
Shod in Choo's, coifed in beige
arising from a long slender nape,
she leaves her nest
after a wave to Amin, her Bichon Frise.
Down-to-the-lobby sashay,
swinging a Gucci full of plastic,
belies an air of loneliness
as she walks to a waiting limousine.
Always caged, the smile is frozen
beneath a botoxed brow.
And the point of it all?
Well, for this life ...
there isn't one.
Bichon Frise
Rough and ready
Ultimate companion
Intellectual breed
Shadow by my side
Ever so playful
Regal little dog
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