He strode with power, strength and grace,
He strode with might, with a puppy’s face,
He was lord of the yard and ruler of the gate.
Whether stalking a squirrel or pouncing on Birds,
His bark was awesome and fearsome When heard.
Wherever He runs, through fields of grass
Or fields of clouds,
whatever he chases, and No matter what is up,
Now and forever He will be;
I didn't feel as if I owned him,
I only loved and cared for him.
|5, Aug 1998|