The Chase Poem by Flying Lemming

There it is still taunting me
Out the side of my eye I see
But I can wait patiently
Until the moment is right

The battle has spanned many years
My adversary still appears
Offering its goads and jeers
Spoiling for a fight

I see it there hovering still
Trying hard to break my will
The thought of chase still gives a thrill
So I make my move and strike

And as I lunge it knows my thought
And dashes off to not get caught
The chase becoming my new sport
A game I’ve grown to like

As I keep on in close pursuit
Determination taken root
I hope my hunt will bare some fruit
This time I will not fail

And observing this dramatic slog
The owner gives his partner a jog
And smiles as they both watch their dog
Continue to chase its tail