Rodney Barnett

(Bath, UK)

My Red Setter, Who Died In 1944 - Poem by Rodney Barnett

Just for a dog, our hearts are bled;
Those glistening eyes, that noble head,
That coat of rich and golden red
No more are seen, for Don is dead.
Such splendour fails not, as his breath -
Long as his memory lingereth
His beauty liveth on through death.


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Read poems about / on: dog, memory, red, beauty, death



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003



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