Puppy

23 2 1
                                    


Rain falls and falls,
One shaggy, wet mop;
Lonely walking down a road
All alone with no home

Soon will be loved,

By fire shall thou sleep;

The sweet face

 Seems to be happy.


Sorrow no more,

Thou loves thee sweet smell;

Sweet smell always stays

So shall he.    

The Sweet Sorrows of PoetryWhere stories live. Discover now