The Joys of Loving a Geriatric Dog.
Monday 16th June 2014 @ 13:38 by Anna Fletcher
Poet's Corner

quill (2)


All’s well with the world and I’m in my chair,

Watching the telly,

without any care.

The bread machine’s going,

all rumbles and bleeps,

And the dog on my lap contentedly sleeps.


She snores and she grunts and the bread machine whirs,

It puts forth a scent that my sense of smell stirs

To thoughts of delight and warm crusty bread,

Making visions of bliss whirl around in my head.


Then another scent wafts,

with rumble of tum,

And pop-pop of wind from my little dog’s bum.

I wish for my sins I had no sense of smell,

For the scent of that wind is giving me h—ll!


Cathie Millns.