Today, I read “It was Long Ago”. The poem was about what the author, Eleanor Farjeon, could remember from her childhood. I decided to write my own poem about something I remember.
Over a year ago,
We went to Wales
To adopt a puppy called Bo.
On the way home,
He did a poo
And we discovered Smelly Bo.
Now, he waits at the door
And emits a quiet ‘please’
When he needs to go.
He was very black
With a tan patch on his left-front leg
And a few strands of white belonged to his back.
Now, more tan than in puppyhood,
His patch still remains
As well as his freckly nose.
His realm: the quiet room.
Like his ancestor’s cub,
Confined to the den.
Now, like the mighty wolf,
Roams the den
And territory surrounding.
During car trips
To the woods,
He was always sick!
Now, he loves the car,
That is always sick free,
But he likes to paint it with drool.
Bo failed to cuddle up to Billy.
Merlin stayed out of reach,
Watching.
Now, the grumpy one
And the sleepy one
Are Bo’s friends.
It’s nice having Bo around;
We love him
And he loves us too!