Her brown eyes implore me for my crackers and cheese. She can't speak a word. She'd like to say "please?" Her paws nearly touch me as she army crawls close, leans in with her muzzle and twitches her nose. Because she's part mastiff her drool runs in rivers. It drives me nuts watching and gives me the shivers. Her tail wags in hope with each glance her way: "Am I gonna get treats? Been a good girl today!" Her begging's elaborate, she puts on quite the show 'til I finally relent and say "Here you go".
Beggar
04 Tuesday Apr 2017
Posted 365 Days of Poetry 2017, National Poetry Month, Poetry
in