pup

day off

 

.........

 

a rumpelstiltskin-esque slumber,

 

  unbridled

refreshment

              awakens me,

 

a barefoot stance, 

      stretching dance,

              bounce

                  in

               step,

 

to the kitchen 

 

checking mail,

    the percolator accompanies

       a

         wagging

                     tail,

 

interrupts,

 

   a yawning

          pup,

 

life is good.

 

10:50 PM 7/7/2013 ©

............

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My Boy and I Go Everywhere Together

Folder: 
Creative Writing

I want a puppy.

 

I want it to be fluffy and dark,

 

I want it to nibble on my fingers, I want it to cry

 

every time I leave it by itself.

 

I want it to lick my face and my hands.

 

When I carry it around town,

 

I want all the ladies to coo, tut and awe for me

 

and my little buddy. I want to buy

 

him new chew toys and milk bones

 

so he can learn new tricks.

 

I want a puppy that’ll grow big and strong

 

so I can wrestle with him.

 

I want my old neighbor, George, to notice

 

my pup, along with Marty and

 

chubby little Peter from across the street.

 

I’d invite party buses full of famous folk,

 

like Ben Affleck or Betty White,

 

then the whole world will know about

 

my new puppy with the pointy ears

 

and the soft coat. If someone offered me money

 

for the cutie, I’ll laugh it off and tell him:

 

“My puppy, not yours. No sale!”

 

When he grows to be a big, old dog,

 

we’ll be the best friends anyone has ever seen.

 

No one will be able to take him from my side,

 

not even my old lady.

 

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