Perspectives through Prose, Poetry and Photography
We pass it every day; how many more
have strolled this way and hesitated here?
My boy is ever drawn to sniff and paw,
I gladly choose to steer my cavalier.
Perhaps a distant, canine bark he hears,
Perhaps it is the scent of those who’ve whiled,
Perhaps the peeling, crimson, red veneer,
Or simply just the ancient call of wild.
He’s like a playful tot, rambunctious child,
Who’d romp about, cavort without restraint,
Save leash within my hand to safely guide,
I let him have his fun but stay the gait
Iconic structure beckons and he heeds,
I, faithful mistress, follow where he leads.
๐ถ๐ถ๐ถ
Photo101: Day Eleven: a Pop of Color
I love this poem/story, very cute. And very true. Enjoy that little one๐๐
LikeLike
Delightful poem
LikeLike
Thank you – trusty old fire hydrant never ceases to attract!
LikeLike