poetry corner 025 – Ella.

I pray all dogs don’t go to heaven.
Sit, Frankie, or I might lose it.
Reason I might say something clever.
Poorer the poetry for a bit.
Better that than lose it all together.
There are no bad dogs, of course.
Only bad owners, if I recall.
Or breeders, as the story goes.
Surviving is a bonus. You’re alive after all.
Not one that a three year old should ever earn.
You’re one tough little lady.
Somebody has a lesson to learn.
4 out of 12 were shady.
A dog should never treat a child
With anger, spite or suspicion.
The atmosphere has been so riled,
Part math, part intuition.
Portents are Unclear.
Wounds heal, a scar, like memories, fade;
It doesn’t take a sooth-Sayer or any fortune-teller.
Instead of terror, our heroin is played
By our warrior princess, Ella.

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