In the heart of Briar Forest
Lives a mid-sized, mixed up dog
Who barks a tune in chorus
With the noises in the fog
Her ears are dark and floppy
Her tail, a furry frond
But, her manner is quite sloppy
For a well-marked, well-kept blonde.

She wears a light blue harness
Faded from the summer sun
And regardless of the farness
She just loves to run and run
Around the trees, over and over
As the birds fly overhead
Through the fields of four-leaf clovers
‘Til the time that she is fed.

She dances through the region
Panting each step of the way
As nature’s humble legion
Illuminates her every day
But by the night, she’s tired
And quite ready for some ZZZZZ’s
Yet, no rest can be acquired
Thanks in part to Sydney’s fleas.

So, up at night, she’ll once more be
To pace and prance and moan
For in her life, eternally
The fleas shall hold their throne
Upon this silly, mixed-up dog
Who barks the world a chorus
Beneath the morning dew and fog
Within the Briar Forest.

© 2005 – Jill Eisnaugle’s Poetry Collection