Puppy Love

I had a little puppy,
It piddled on the floor,
And every time I mopped it up,
It piddled even more.

He didn’t get the message,
I tried to teach in vain,
He didn’t give much notice,
Oops, there he goes again.

Another little puddle,
To mop up once again,
The place is in a guddle,
When will he ever learn.

I chase him round with papers,
To lead him to the door,
I have to watch his every move,
In case he leaves me more.

And just when I had given up,
On such a hopeless case,
He scampered to the door then,
Panic etched upon his face.

At last we turned the corner,
With help from God above,
And looking back I realise why,
They call this Puppy Love.

by Linda Harnett

Comments (2)

very cute indeed....guddle doesnt matter.....poetic licence! :)
I know it rhymes with puddle, but what is a guddle?