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Monday, September 17, 2007

Poetry

The Pet
There is an aged dog of limited girth,
Who's drawn face contains no mirth.
By day she indiscriminately howls,
At night shed dreams like a drunken owl.
Such a dog deserves a second birth.

1 comments:

DeEtta @ Courageous Joy said...

Ah Beatrix...I think do think you need to make a second verse talking about her good qualities.