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Pojken
the Pug
by Velma M. Carlson
He’s very cute, and we love him so,
But getting old, and will have to go.
He sleeps all day – and all nite long
Not a single care – does nothing wrong.
Has ig brown eyes – follows our steps
And his little black face, the cutest yet.
Curly tail winding around his back;
Whenever we eat, he’s there for a snack.
If there’s a “Dog Heaven” we know he’ll be there
Our cute little pug – so blond and fair.
If we don’t feel just right, he can always tell
And sits close beside us, until we are well.
He loves his pug, it’s all his own
And knows right where it is, when he’s home.
At nite when it’s time to go to bed
He sits patiently waiting to be fed.
He has his cookies, just at nite
Or does some tricks especially nice
He says his prayers and shakes your hand.
And somehow seems to understand
So, dear little pug, after 15 years,
I guess we had better not shed any tears
But we’ll miss you so, in your place on the rug
But never forget “Pojken the Pug”.
A simile is as easy as pie, but a
metaphor is a piece of cake!
Poetry From the Generations - Nan's Morsels
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