Head help: Ode to Bob - Help.com

Ode to Bob

Bob looks at me with his sad eyes
He never buys my weak disguise

He follows me from room to room
As in procession to a tomb

I stop, look down, & pat his head
His company keeps me from dread

I take time out from my pursuits
To sit with Bob & stroke his coat

Appreciatively, he licks my hand
& for a moment, stops times sand

But time starts back, I rise to leave
As the newspaper, Bob retrieves

And so begins another day
As out the door to work I stray

This open post was written 1 year ago | V/U/S: 88, 1, 2 | Edit Post | Leave a reply | Report Post

Eye, Stroke, Newspaper, Door, hand, Head, Sand, Sitting, deception, Angst (How Tags Affect Reciprocity)

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