deepundergroundpoetry.com

Retrieving

 
I dropped the dummy midst the  mole hills;  
Jack sniffing out rabbits In the hedge rows.  
He never kills,his to retrieve,  
I call him to heel sitting and eager;  
He knows the score. point down the field  
where lies the dummy-  
That's the game! All for biscuits  
and my delight; I point and he is gone.  
The breeze from the west to the east he runs  
tail streaming-black then as quick he turns  
west against the breeze ,in careful sweeps  
quarters the field until he has the scent;  
straight as cupid's dart the dummy in his mouth,  
gentle as if a pheasant.  
To my heel, happy eyes a dummy at my feet,  
Again and yet again we played, unfailing  
retrieves, until time for home by dusk.  
Slippers at my feet feigning sleep,  
Waiting for his supper.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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