Letters And Loyalty.

The last one I shall actually dedicate to Harvey. As with most Spaniels he would bring me things on request, but his main job, in his eyes, was collecting any letters from the hall and dropping them at my feet, hence the title of this poem.

The grief of you took all

my words and locked 

them safe away.

’till I should know the 

need of them, and

call them close one day.

I had no care 

to turn my head nor

wonder at their loss, all

pens had fallen to the past

my ink to dust grew old.

Then as the sun turned

leaves to gold, one

last request to meet..

You found those words,

those letters lost,

and lay them at my feet.