Three Dog Poems
Hush And Hound
I have a silent whistle (that’s
The sort that no-one hears
Except, they say, for passing bats
And fine-tuned canine ears)
But as it speaks, a ghostly thin
It’s clear enough the answering din
Is from no silent dog.
Change of Pens
An author whom few cared to read,
Tired of neglect, or critics’ titters,
Bought bitches, found a place to breed,
And proved at least a man of litters.
Bred For Head?
A terrier a couple bought
Had lots of brains but little muscle
But wins in shows, the pair report,
When entered as a Bertrand Russell.
If you have any thoughts on these poems, Jerome Betts would be pleased to hear them.