Ball playing Mongrel

Flapping ears mark her longing to fly

But the bitch never misses a ball.

Frisbees, sticks, anything will do

She catches high balls or curves

Gleefully straining and running for her life

Jumping higher than any cow, trying for the moon.

Grannies and children beware!

The exuberant buoyancy of this dame

Takes no prisoners:

Greetings mostly end with mongrel and co in a heap on the floor.

Walks become exercises in sounding

And working like an express train

Steam engines can’t hold a candle to

The hard work initiated the moment somebody offers to put her on the line.

Blue-black eyes glitter at the feast of chewing a shoe

*

In later years, the lady found

Greater pleasure in chewing gum

Scrunched at the nearby garage.

Nobody would have thought she ever could slow down

But age and infirmity took its toll

And one day even this lightning-ball

Decided to take leave.

*

Doubtless she catches every high-flier

In the happy hunting grounds.

© HMH, 2013