Our Misty Poem by Phil Soar
Our Misty
She sleeps more now through every day
Her speed has all but gone away
Her mood is always easy though
She's arthritic from head to toe
But still she seems to manage to
Share her days with me and you
No words express how we all fear
The days that she may not be here
Until time calls life to a end
She'll lick our hands, and be our friend
Monday, April 20, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: dogs
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12/17/2025 12:04:04 AM # 1.0.0
