Love of Mr Chowdy
You loved to hug Mr Chowdy;
You liked it when his wet nose
Brushed your chin or his long
Tongue licked your ear. Don’t let
The darn mutt bark too much,
Father said, or he’ll have to go
And sleep in the yard out in the
Doghouse. You used to feed him
From scraps saved from meals,
Or pushed him small pieces under
The table out of sight of the others.
Some evenings you managed to
Sneak him into your room and let
Him lie in comfort on your bed;
Listening out in case the parents
Came and turfed him off into
The kitchen or out in the cold.
Some nights you could hear his
Heavy breathing across the way
Beside the window where you let
Him lay. Now you’re much older
And Mr Chowdy’s dead; now it’s
Your husband’s snoring and heavy
Breathing that you hear in bed.
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
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