adventures in dysthymia

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Frisk, a poem

Frisk

Collies don't drink coffee,
Terriers don't take tea;
And chocolate is anathema
To doggies large and wee.

Caffeine is a human vice,
Cup by steaming cup;
Our canines sit and watch us
And wonder just what's up.

Come frisk in the yard,
It's more fun
, they'd say;
But we must have our boost
Before we go out to play.

Perhaps a morning romp
Is all we really need;
Collies and terriers know --
Why not the human breed?

Stephen Brooke ©2012

Another light verse throw-away.

Lots of thunder and stormy weather last night. Glad to have the rain, especially as I have gone ahead with the tree transplanting. Looks like continued mild and not very winter-like weather for a while. Gosh, in a month it will start feeling like spring!

Tucky wanted to escape the storm by going to the one room where she is not allowed at night, my mom's bedroom. Every thunder boom and she was up scratching at the door. Why she would think that room was safer, I'm not sure -- maybe she wanted to hide in the walk-in closet!

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