The Hunger Poem by Dave Dunn

The Hunger

For days now he had hungered

His search took him along many an avenue
Where his pleas were so harshly ignored
But his need was such he had to continue
So to all that he met he implored

Many turned him away with brusque impatience
What had he to offer them they all jeered
Still he searched with all true innocence
Of the way he was evidently feared

Daringly he turned his gaze upon all
All those who walked the same paths
All those who he heard from over their wall
Where they tended their gardens with care
Ever hoping soon he might find that one
That one person who would freely share

His recent loss burned still in his heavy heart
All the devotion he had given and received
Had been beyond reproach from the very start
She had been the one and now alone he grieved

His thoughts turned to that day when he awoke
To find his companion gone but yet still there
No response came as usual to his gentle stroke
Still and cold, so very cold as he proffered care

All that long day his hope lingered with them
Until night fell and hope slid away numbed
Tangibly wandering out into the dark and mean
Moon shadows cast behind their wind rattled shed

A sharp whistle seemed to bring him from his dream
It turned his head and stopped him still in his tracks
He shook his head twice hardly believing the scene
Then ran swiftly towards his mistress now back!

Joyous reunion after those last empty days
Filled both as they then embraced so lovingly
Her hands no longer felt cold but her eyes
Her eyes did seem a little pale and misty

The pair were soon jauntily walking back home
To their ramshackle old potting shed
All the spiders would ask why did they roam
Neither would answer as they settled to bed

Down the avenue none had noticed their sheer joy
None had seen them walk by in such evident glee
None had heard their footfalls or calls of good boy
But minutes after one lad saw what didn't flee

'Hey Mum' he called into the kitchen
'Come and look at this old dog over here'
'There's nowt you can do for it Marvin'
Poor old thing - must have been a stray dear

Back in the shed Good Boy and Mistress rested
Peace was with them amidst peat and dead fern
Neither ever pined or wept again in their bed
The hunger was gone now, never more to return

©Rhumour
June 12th 2009