JUST ONE MORE BLADE OF GRASS
First poem of …..
Copyright Gordon Kuhn “Poet in the Rain”
She lies gently sleeping,
sleeping by the house front door,
resting deeply from her nightly chore
of watching, protecting, and keeping
us safe while we lay in safety and in comfort snore,
unaware of all that passed by our entrance door.
But she knows, she knows that, and so much more.
And she lays now and dreams of being a puppy,
and makes sucking noises as she dreams of her mother’s teat.
To her life is so warm, so wondrous, so complete.
Yet, age has taken up its toll on her.
her eyes still bright and so soft is her fur;
but, an injured leg, and arthritis tend
to hinder her, and I’m afraid she will not mend,
and my heart breaks as I watch her knowing the end
is closer than I wish for a much treasured friend,
someone whose life I cannot bear to end,
but one who so willing would be so led
on a trip unknown to her and one I dread,
and cannot face for it tears me apart
to even think how I would play such a part,
could play such a role
in her life to bring it to an end.
This treasured friend, this wonderful treasured friend,
who loves to walk with me in the sun and in the rain
despite the fact she walks in silent pain.
She who simply wishes to smell the grass. Each blade
she takes time to inspect, and is so staid
in her research of every scent,
while I the master fuss and vent
over all the time wasted even though to her so noble spent,
and in my hurry forget her luxury, and fail to lend
time to her for in too much hurry I cannot spend
a moment to let her smell just one more
just one more blade before the end.