A Spade stands ready
My first poem here, one I’ve just finished, so still may have some tinkering. Bobby is our second springer; much loved, and still hanging in there, but he’s only heading one way: to the where mystery will be.
Main text of your writing.
A spade stands ready.
A spade stands – now ready beside the shed;
It’s cold January, and he’s not yet dead.
He may be lost, he may have forgotten,
what a dog should do – he’s not forsaken;
though his mind is aslant he’s always ours;
so, we shall watch and mind him in the hours,
and will now give him his longest day’s rest,
for he’s always given his very best.
He’ll soon pass on, and after all is said,
the spade stands – now ready beside the shed.
(Bobby, Springer Spaniel – brain tumour)
D G Moody