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Charles Oswalt Poem
“I went into a grocery store to buy a bag of beets.
I had to buy them there, you see, it’s the only thing he eats.”
“Who is this ‘he’ of whom you speak?” was my quick reply.
“Why, don’t you know my little dog, who’s standing there, nearby.”
“A clever thing, ‘he’ caught a bear, just yesterday I think”
“He chased him first, then nabbed him, quicker than a wink”.
“How can a tiny dog”, said I, “catch a giant bear?”
“Quite simply” was the answer, “he grabbed him by the hair.”
“Oh, that explains the puzzle, then, I thought it would be harder,
That he would need some kind of bait, like something from the larder.”
“No, he is strong for one his size, but really not too bright.
He wouldn’t have thought to bring such help in the middle of the night”.
“So it was dark then” said I, “I’m surprised that he could see”.
“I held a light for him”, he said, “he depends on that from me.”
“You held a light so a little dog could grab him by the hair?
What would have happened, do you think, if you had not been there?”
“Nothing much, I think, the two would have simply waited,
Until the morning light arrived and the darkness dissipated.”
“The bear seems very docile to allow a dog to catch him.
Instead of simply eating him or in another way to vex him.
“By Jove, you may be right, you see, I sometimes get confused,
And think something has happened when I’m simply just bemused”.
Perhaps it wasn’t late last night, it may have been this morning.
Ofttimes my mind just plays a trick and doesn’t give me warning.”
“And maybe It wasn’t a bear he caught, it might have been a mouse.
That would be more likely to have been here in the house.”
It’s just too bad, it really is, that was such a wondrous story.
It would be great to have a dog covered in such glory.
Copyright © Charles Oswalt | Year Posted 2021
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Charles Oswalt Poem
Serena, when she’s sleeping, is the sleepiest cat in the world.
She likes her basket in the sun,
and a nice warm bed when day is done.
She stretches first and turns around
and only then she settles down.
But then she’ll sleep the whole day through,
with just a little break or two.
Serena, when she’s eating, is the hungriest cat in the world.
She’s hungry in the morning,
but at least she gives us warning
that she’s ready for her breakfast there and then.
She’s patient as she can be,
but her stomachs getting angry
and she thinks she’s had no food since who knows when.
Serena, when she’s playing, is the happiest cat in the world.
First she’s here and then she’s there
and, in fact, she’s everywhere,
from her cat tree to the highest thing in sight.
She’ll wrestle with her mouse,
but she won’t destroy the house,
though it often seems, at times, perhaps she might.
Serena, when she’s preening, is the prettiest cat in the world.
She’s not your usual Tabby, this remarkably fine Abby,
with her beauty mark of white beneath her chin.
She’ll primp and comb and preen, ‘till she’s certain that she’s clean;
her ablutions are almost sure to make you grin.
She’s as pretty as a flower and were it within my power
there wouldn’t be a show she wouldn’t win.
Copyright © Charles Oswalt | Year Posted 2020
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Charles Oswalt Poem
Great our blessings throughout life,
Odd thoughts we have about the meaning
Don’t we have sorrow, sometimes strife
Sent us by a perfect being.
Will our faith withstand the moment
Illness sometimes tests us most
Leave to others doubt to foment
Let us simply trust the Host.
Believe in Him, He’s always with us,
Even when the path looks bleak.
Don’t disparage of his goodness
Only because the flesh is weak.
Now look toward long life and recover
Even in stress God’s love discover.
Copyright © Charles Oswalt | Year Posted 2023
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