Siproena Johnson

As Poetry Recycles Neurons

5/6/13

Word Count 236

 

My Patient Friend

Waldo looks up lovingly as he lies on my stomach.

Day break is coming and he motions for me to wake.

This dog can be quite patient with his long gentle stare.

I turn to sleep a bit longer but his persistent nudging is beginning its wear.

Slowly rising from his “pillow” and stretching on bed’s side,

He bends his neck back snakelike and his tail whips my behind!

 

“Okay Waldo.” I tell him. “I’ll take a walk with you, but first of all I’d like it if you’d move off my house shoes.

His heavy sigh pressures me to move but I carry on telling him we will be out soon.

Finally I finish getting dressed for a long walk while at the same time he wiggles on the bed watching me happily like a hawk.

I open the door and bolts past me to the stairs.

His paws sound like thunder as he tramples down alongside the cat making quite a pair.

I watch my footing as I follow them down,

Waldo turns his head occasionally to see I’m still around.

From the cabinet in the kitchen, I grab this boy’s leash.

He promptly knows his cue and is seated ready to receive the leashed collar.

I find it nice that I don’t need to holler.

I grab my hat, ready as well,

We walk out together for a time sure to be swell.