May workshop poem. But a Season.
Posted: Tue May 13, 2025 8:57 am
But a Season.
© Ron Boughton May ‘25.
Vivid pawprints lament upon our soul
from Seven Autumns, heaven sent,
by a dog that of our focus stole
and now leaves our heartstrings rent!
We try in vain then to justify
those savage blows of life unjust,
but always the question why, why, why?
is then into our conscience thrust!
His big sleep came in the Autumn time,
his life cut short by half, at least,
when so sadly taken in his prime
by the cruel ‘dirty dancer’ beast!
He was Kelpie crossed with Huntaway,
of full on placid temperament,
and of raw instinct when on display
did his intelligence augment!
Ah, those days of runs in grassy field
of walks in bush and country towns,
memories now, battling with the wield
of melancholies wretched downs!
A faithful mate who our heart bereaves
but, we treasure the time he gave,
and like the colour of Autumn leaves
his memories …will forever save!
© Ron Boughton May ‘25.
Vivid pawprints lament upon our soul
from Seven Autumns, heaven sent,
by a dog that of our focus stole
and now leaves our heartstrings rent!
We try in vain then to justify
those savage blows of life unjust,
but always the question why, why, why?
is then into our conscience thrust!
His big sleep came in the Autumn time,
his life cut short by half, at least,
when so sadly taken in his prime
by the cruel ‘dirty dancer’ beast!
He was Kelpie crossed with Huntaway,
of full on placid temperament,
and of raw instinct when on display
did his intelligence augment!
Ah, those days of runs in grassy field
of walks in bush and country towns,
memories now, battling with the wield
of melancholies wretched downs!
A faithful mate who our heart bereaves
but, we treasure the time he gave,
and like the colour of Autumn leaves
his memories …will forever save!