Ripple The Puppy
Either it's a nice thing
to be loved,
or I must be some kind of softie...
It's 4:57 in the morning,
and I've been holding this pup
for a while now,
and he does look adorable
as he sleeps with his nose buried
in the crook of my elbow...
He's been sleeping that way long enough
for my arm to go to sleep,
for my shoulder to start to ache,
for my neck to start to cramp, big time.
But he's trusting now, he's warm,
and he's feeling safe enough
to finally let himself fall asleep.
Left arm fairly numb now,
propped on my belly,
puppy on my arm,
and I'm typing with only my right hand...
I'd like to go back to sleep, myself -
he woke us at 3:40, and he's just now settled down.
I wonder, though, if I could get him back in his bed
without him waking up again,
so I could get back to sleep.
He has, we've learned, quite a voice,
and his tiny cries and whimpers
turn your heart to tears...
He's new to us, as we are to him,
but this is his first night in his new home,
and he needs to be held.
He needs to know he is loved, and safe.
We all need that,
and I would never deny him that.
Comments on this poem/writing:
Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh
Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org so the proper person may be notified.