Would you like to read it?
Of course you wouldn’t, but I’m going to put it on here anyway.
It’s called A Bundle of Dynamite and it was about my dog Cassie who lived to be seventeen and was the best mate a girl ever had.
He sits quite still upon the chair,
A bundle of dynamite covered in hair,
Two bright brown eyes, a velvet nose,
What will he do next? Goodness knows.
His ears prick up; there’s a tap at the door,
The bundle of dynamite hits the floor,
“Watch out!” cries Mum. “It’s only Dad.”
He gives a bark. His tail does wag.
Peace for a while. His restless spirit is still,
Will he come for a walk? I think he will,
I pick up his lead and rattle the chain,
The bundle of dynamite’s active again.
Now he is tired, not dynamite now,
He’s even too sleepy to say “Bow wow”.
Oh come on! I heard you groan from here. I was just a kid and I’ve never claimed to be a poet, but it was my first time – well if you don’t count when my friend Malc and I did a community newsletter and tried to flog it to the neighbours . . . following so hot on the heels of the perfume incident it was no wonder we got into trouble really. Happy days.
And please go along to the Gentle Footprints blog and read my lovely friend (and very talented writer) Lyn Fountain’s posts which start today. http://gentlefootprintsanimalanthology.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-one-lyn-fountain.html And buy the book!