I wrote three poems for this prompt this morning.
The first one is way way too raw to let the public see. Maybe some time later I will gather all the things I've written for R and publish them in one volume. I will include that poem then. But I can't do that now.
This is the second poem. This is the one I posted on the Poetic Asides site.
Wish
My heart aches
Sitting here
Watching you
Hurt
Worry
Nothing I can do
No matter
How much
I want to
This is the last one. I was writing all the poems today while I was on a call from work--which is why 2 was finished after 3--and why 3 is not my best work.
Take 3 (currently Untitled other than that)
Drips and spots of rain do fall
Making mud of Mother Earth
The dog goes out
And plays around
With burrs and bits
Trapped in her fur
She smells
Atrocious
And thinks she rules us
Can’t give her a bath
No matter how much I desire
Until the rains stop
And the ground dries up
Else we have to bath her
Every five minutes
To keep her clean
For once I can say
I’d like it not to rain
Just long enough
To justify
Washing the dog clean
Just so she smells better
The dog just needs a bath-and I don't want to wash her when she'll go right outside and basically roll in the mud because she had a bath. It keeps raining--which is a good thing, especially for my plants, but not for the dog's butt. She smells. It is not so bad yet that I will ignore the mud factor. Nor is it so bad yet that I will call my newest tattoo healed enough to dunk her and scrub her and do all that needs to be done to reach her skin through that overly-thick pelt of hers--at least on her backside. The rest isn't so difficult, mostly.
I long to give that darn dog a bath--yes. :-)
