There’s something depressing about a dog,
Whose master has long since left his household.
Like a statue he sits upon the lawn,
Paws folded, head perched, a canine watchman.
A stare so iced with anticipation,
Blizzards bloom beneath his frowning brow line.
When the sound of a motor car is heard
Purring like a tabby cat down the street,
You can almost hear his hear set to-race
Tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump
And feel a glow of hope encompass him-
His eyes grin “It’s him! I know it this time! ”
But the metal giant passes…..no luck.
That doggie would wait for years upon years
With no “Expect me thens” or “I’ll be backs”.
If one needs these, then what is loyalty?
Better yet, what is faith? Well, I’ll tell you-
Faith is a dog without any answers,
Waiting on the front lawn, long as he must.
'Hmph'-You reply
'Then dogs must make excellent Christians'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well, anything I say here can and will be used against me- however I must say, great storyline. Philosphical also! (smile)