Wordless Wednesday ~ Catching Rays
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Tag Archives: dogs
Dog Walk
Yesterday you hugged the gravel path.
Today you strayed into wildflowers and
withers-high grass,
nose working the air as though
inhaling heaven itself.
Tonight I’ll pull burrs from the
long fur on your legs and bum.
Tomorrow, who knows?
With you, it’s all good.
dVerse poets Quadrille #110: Bumming around.
Sweet Bella
Bella went to heaven today.
Now her worry wrinkles will unfold.
She will take well-earned peaceful naps
and wake the angels with her snoring.
She will bow down and wiggle her butt
in the universal “let’s play” gesture,
And other dog angels will tussle with her
in fields of sweet grass and flowers.
She will live forever in our hearts,
her soulful gaze will touch our thoughts.
Her memory will always bless us,
just as she did in life.
Rest in peace, Miss Bella.
Exhale
NaPoWriMo, Day 19.
The prompt:
Today, I’d like to challenge you to write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet. You could write a very strict abecedarian poem, in which there are twenty-six words in alphabetical order, or you could write one in which each line begins with a word that follows the order of the alphabet.
Okay, the directions seemed simple enough, but somehow I got it backwards.
Exhale
Zoey
Yearned to
eXhale.
While breathing is indeed a
Valuable asset for living, it is generally
Understood that if one goes to the
Trouble of inhaling, it’s
Simply impossible to
Refrain from exhaling. The obvious
Question, then, is what
Prompted Zoey to possess this
Oddly understated desire.
Needless to say – one would hope — the perpetual
Mishandling, neglect and abuse of an animal will
Lead to mistrust, fear and – in Zoey’s case – a
Keen sense of danger such that
Just by exhaling, she might incur the
Inability to protect herself from harm.
Her wish for safety and security was
Granted one day in the
Form of earthbound angels who
Extricated her from her dire,
Debilitating situation, and through
Care and love and patience, Zoey was
Bestowed once again with her rightful
Ability to fully, exhilaratingly exhale.
Table Troll
Furry troll with curious eyes
watched as dinner his table imposed.
“The password, please, else meet your demise.”
Troll drooled and lifted his nose.
Ominous threats no one believes,
beautiful puppy mine.
The password, please, you silly tease.
On table scraps you shall dine.
Asking Bella
From where did you come,
and where did you go
before you came here to me?
What happened to make you fear
crates and loud noises and the prospect of
being left alone?
Who put you in a cell
with bars and bare cement floors
and people parading by to stare?
How did you choose me
to be the one you would enchant
with your soulful chocolate eyes?
When will I have done enough to thank you
for the privilege of walking this path
with you?
I can imagine answers to my questions,
but I will never truly know.
Of course, some questions have no answers,
and that’s okay. What matters is that
you are the answer to me, and
I am the answer to you.
For Emily and Bella
dog days of winter
The gravel path encircling the dog park is churned to mud. Wood chips, spread last season to fill in low spots, now form a waterlogged sponge underfoot. The sky, pale blue and cloudless, does not belie that we are in mid-dreary-chilly January. It bears a sense of oppression, making one inclined to slouch when walking, as if to clear a low ceiling.
The dogs don’t seem to mind the damp chill. Puddles, gritty mud, soggy clumps of sod… it’s all the same to their weather-hardened paws. There are balls to chase, fence posts to water and all manner of smells to sniff.
After a couple of plodding loops around the field, I catch up to my pup, who has paused to stick his nose up a Doberman’s butt. I latch the leash to his collar and we head out of the park. I sidestep pools of standing water, morosely noting that the rainy season has only just begun. My dog plows straight through the water, tongue flopping, slobber hanging off his chin. He — obviously — has failed to notice that we are in mid-fricking-depressing January.
gnarled bare tree shivers
arthritic branch points skyward
lays blame on winter
Wordless Wednesday (Halloween edition)
Wordless Wednesday 9.19.18
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morning stirs
The clock shows six a.m. Maybe. My eyes don’t quite focus first thing in the morning. My dog Chules has awakened me with his gentle “woof” from halfway down the hall. I don’t know how he expects me to hear such soft greetings, but I do hear them, almost every time. I rise and make my way down the hall to the front door where Chules now waits. “What kind of day do you suppose it is today?” I ask. Chules answers as usual with a generous tail wag and an expectant smile. He doesn’t prejudge days. He’s very Zen about that kind of thing.
I prop the door open with my Himalayan salt crystal. The lamp inside broke some time ago, but it’s quite heavy and makes a perfect door stop, so there it sits. Chules steps out to the porch and plops down on the cool cement. The lyrics from a Dan Fogelberg song enter my head.
Yes it’s going to be a day // There is really no way to say no // To the morning.
Chules’ eyes meet mine. Does he hear the song, too? In my imagination, I hear us both saying, “Yes.” A most hearty yes to the morning.
morning stirs awake
day unfolds to greet the sun
petals of summer
What Rhymes with Stanza? 