Ode To A Hound

While walking in the dark,
I heard a wailing sound.
Our behing the park,
was just a sad old hound.
He turned with eyes so sad,
that spoke of years long past.
His life a rough lot had,
he'd found his place at last.
And slowly he sat down,
gave tail a shakey wag.
His eyes were sadly brown,
his back a painful sag.
Then when he looked at me,
I just had to go to him.
Then in eyes did see,
tho they were very dim.
He said make room for me,
for I can hardly see.
Under yonder tree of shade,
my comfort would improve.
Said, would you take up spade,
make my final place to lay.
When humble hole our've make,
to lay me when I die.
And thank you for your deed,
that for me you have done.
And then with all God speed,
cover me from final sun.
There I'll forever remain,
rest safe in quiet peace.
and may only God ordain,
wrapped in his golden fleece.

by Don McCrea

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.