Sonnet CCCXI

The frozen earth is creaking slightly
as cautious footsteps tread its face.
My eyes, like guarded shells of brandy,
are scanning quickly ‘round the place.
I’m searching for the Dog I’m scared of.
He’s nowhere to be seen – but careful!
As walking past his home, he barks –
I see his muzzle, then his snarl.
But then I’m past and he is chained there,
and is he – puzzled? Curious?
We glance covertly, silent, lest
the other think the other weaker.
He barks, I bow; he stalks away –
but maybe we shall meet another day.

Sonnet CCXCIII

It stood there mutely, acting like some hellish hound.
The breeze bashed both of us, and crackled in between,
electric, cackling like a hag; as crudely mean.
Its eyes ablaze, they flamed like fire with no sound,
as hiding mine, I searched the barren ground.
I flinched – he snapped – uprooting like canine fiend.
But hindered by his metal chain, he couldn’t reach me,
as carefully, I crossed the road, with fearful leaps and bounds.

He barked and snarled, and looked quite helpless as it seemed,
and in my glad escape, I raced away and beamed.

When morning came again, I set about my trek,
prepared to face its flaring muzzle if it neared.
Around the bend, I cautious walked – now more prepared –
but saw no dog. I almost missed his flaming breath.

Sonnet CCVI

A Chicken and a Dog went out to see the Frog.
Said Chicken to the Dog, “Where is that Frog to-day?”
Said Dog to Chicken fair, “Perhaps he’s gone to play!”
The Chicken and the Dog searched at the barren bog,
but Chicken and the Dog found not their friend the Frog.
They searched the lily pads, the willows solemn grey,
they searched the river green, they searched the livelong day –
but Chicken and the Dog found not their friend the Frog.

Then meeting them at night, that Frog appeared at last
and brought with him a ship that moved so very fast!

They rode off to the moon, to see what they could find.
They had a lot of fun, and more as time had passed,
for friends may be quite late and may be always last,
but never think a friend shall purge you from their mind.

Sonnet CXXXIX

Persistent as a squirrel’s winter game,
the dogged winter sea, the rainy skies,
I struggle on. Determined, driven flame
which burns within me, always to abide.
And hurricanes may beat me all the same,
but still I struggle on and keep alive.
And hail may stone me, lions less than tame,
but still I live, and shall but never die.

Persistent as the bloody flies that bite,
the cranky dogs, the salesmen at the door;
Persistent as the monstrous, chilling night,
the nagging termites gnawing at the floor,
I’ll still persist with all my hopeless might
and still be here to haunt you, evermore.

Sonnet XXII

My vast plantation glows a crimson green.
My loyal workers comb the lawn for worms.
Mechanically they bob their silly dance
while shimmering a darkly luscious sheen.

At noon they rest and gossip just a bit,
rejoining others at another spot.
Alarmed, they sometimes briskly flit away
and then regroup to share more of their wit.

Some days they never come to visit me.
(My green plantations don a jealous jade)
We envy all the trees that steal our friends,
who spurn our warm and gracious charity.

Then we connive, like dogs to get our feed
whilst happy days, unhindered, still proceed.

Sonnet XVII

Although it’s silly, anxious thoughts stay near.
Dogs scare me, loudly barking constantly.
I don’t know why those canines are beloved.
But fear is foolish, dogs are victims here.

Domestication is so very sad.
Dogs live their lives, subservient to our kind,
Dependent on our kindness for their lives.
We give them treats, or not if they are bad.

But still, we claim we bring them happiness.
However, they seem more like pliant toys.
Should animals be forced to please our whims?
We’re stuck in ruts that we can’t think of less.

I wonder if we’re just like locked-up dogs.
Our lives are trapped, we’re caught against our wills.