I love good poetry. I love its simple complexity and complex simplicity. I suck at it, but you only get better at something by practicing at it… Not by talking about doing it.

Regulars know quite well about my deep connection to my dog, Daisy. She has been recovering quite nicely from health issues a month or two ago, and we try to make the most out of each new day she’s able to wake up to.

The quality of what follows may prove my point about having a long way to go in poetry, but I hope I adequately convey a small piece of what our time as best friends has meant to me, before her clock runs out, in a poetic sort of way.

That moment we first met, in your blackish-brown eyes, I saw every better tomorrow we’d each realize

The good and bad ahead, both happy and sad, would be, all the same, the best we both could have ever had.

We’d laugh, and we’d play, like children in May, running through sprinklers, rolling in spray.

We’d nap in the yard, day and night, hot and cold, and we’d do all of these things until the days we grew old.

A blink of those eyes later, kept promises defining our past, unconditional love assured until we breathe our last.

We’ve lived that good life, done all we said we’d do, and through all those great years, side by side, it’s been me and you.

At my feet, deeply sleeping on the floor, through misty wistful eyes, I see clearly that time won’t give us much more.

While you’re still here, until the horizon calls home your life’s Sun, know you couldn’t have been loved more, and that our souls are forever linked as one.

It is selfish greed that makes us sad, not the Natural end of a full and well-lived life those you’ve loved surely had.

Investing sadness in who you’ve lost yet still remember gains a better purchase in joyously re-living what you can no longer do together.

Know, my canine soulmate, that after you leave these Earthly grounds, they’ll be far better off than how you had hoped when, for you, they were first found.

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dave
I'm likely the first author you've met that can't read or write (3 strokes). Refusing to give up or be helpless, I engineered a way around my blindness and have written two books, with more coming soon. I invite you to follow along - I'm just warmin' up: David M. Poff @ Amazon

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