Sep. 14, 2021
Scooped up from a carpark at a few days
manged, carried carefully to the kennels
Fostered then adopted in less than two weeks
he shivered and shook his way into our lives
From lovable pup to affectionate tan terrier
he anthromorphed into the favoured one
Until and until . . .
Harvey’s arrival dropped him down the pecking order
created a stand-off with occasional growls
Then before peace negotiations could begin
Walter appeared shunting our canine further
The situation demanded interventions
Walks, treats, attention, affection to offset
humiliation – it worked well
Except but except . . .
Dorothea burst into his world a crowning last
defeat or so we thought because in a little time
the animal bug caught up . . .
without warning or preparation
Armeow, a tabby kitten of weeks - down from the North -
colonised his narrowing world
Our now middle aged mutt lost out again
She taunted him till they had to be separated
His eyes would widen, gaze lengthen in desperate appeal
Finally, he sniffed round this curiosity and was lost
His sole response - a tired familiar accommodation
Peter Clarke
Clíodhna
15.09.2021 12:42
Lovely poem Peter. Is Dobby really nine!?
Triona Mc Morrow
14.09.2021 18:12
That’s lovely Peter, captures the family life very well. I love the last line too.
Latest comments
25.11 | 22:15
Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.
07.11 | 11:14
Hi Peter,
A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there
Hugs,
John.x
06.11 | 16:24
A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.
06.11 | 15:59
Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.
In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.
Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields
Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:
Posts and cones positioned to mark territories
Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots
clad and shod for the ensuing battles
Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,
then marked off into opposing teams
Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls
in further exercises to bring them to fit levels
There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,
responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm
Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,
to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs
Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play
the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit
For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line
till fitness returned and they were entered back into play
Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,
novices flagged and regrouped across the fields
Between bouts came the talks of encouragement
Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.
Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,
a gift of generous wisdom gladly given
Peter Clarke
20th April 2024