guest poetic blog by Classey Nehrke
Two violin players,
three enraptured dogs.
They all meshed together,
like peat n a bog.
?
The dogs were busy taking
their daily run in the park.
But this was very different from
their usual outdoor lark.
?
The violin music they heard
was, to them, like mean on a bone.
They stopped their running abruptly
and flatly refused to go home.
?
-- Let?s Listen as they tell it--
?
?We?ve paid all winter for this concert,? they said,
?Being out in the freezing cold.
Chilling our ears and numbing our paws,
as we battled the wind and the snow.?
?
Now, we get our comeback.
This music sounds so nice!
Who says that dogs do not enjoy
The finer things of life?
?
And our mistress needed some cheering up.
Her spirits were beginning to droop.
This violin music is so much nicer
than picking up poop with a scoop.
?
So we gave our mistress quite a start,
guess she didn?t really know her pets.
Perhaps, go to the Opera yet!
?
No, this was no our usual run.
This ?Friday in the park.?
Now, we?re dogs that have ?culture,?
and we?re having quite a lark.
?
They were two talented sisters;
we were three enraptured dogs.
You might say we meshed together
like peat that grows in the bog.
?
I thank Mrs. Nehrke for classing up my blog, 1,726 posts and my first poem.
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