THE WATCHER

Dogs

Dogs they just listen and see what they see,
Look at the wall, look at the tree.
Look at the bird, look at the plane,
This old dogs life, stays always the same.

Sniff at the ground, turn and lay down,
With the cock of the head, you're ready for bed.
Too bored to stand, amazed at it all,
The pressures too great, to stare at the wall.

My eyes start to close, my head bobbs a little,
But my ears are awake, half way up to the middle.
I think I'll rest now, but I'll always be on guard,
For to some it's for naught, but I'm king of my yard!

_____________________


While doing a bit of cleaning in the garage, I found my old yellow notebook with this poem scribbled down. I read it to my girls who told me I should put it up on the old blog. Now, my marginal poetry is immortal. It did remind me that we did at one time have a couple of great dogs.