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Storm I found myself out of place, out of sorts And out of luck, on top of which it rained Heavily. Big summer blobs bouncing down The road, gurgling in the gutters. Racing Riverlets, bubbling deltas, rushing and Gushing pell-mell for the storm drains and Ultimately the swollen rivers beyond
Caught in a cloudburst it was hard to Hear much above the noise of the rain And the high-pitched swish of passing Traffic but somewhere in there another Sound, a sad sound, the pitiful cry of an Animal in distress. A sound that lead me To the nearby hedgerow where buried Deep within a layer of dead leaves and Highway detritus lay a little King Charles Spaniel, wet and bedraggled and clearly Frightened by the storm overhead and The fast moving traffic only feet away
'Hello, sunshine.' I said, as I gingerly Approached the little lad. 'Not been the Best of days so far eh?' I didn't want to Add to his alarm but I'd no need to worry For he slowly crawled towards me head Down tail between his legs and raising His head began to gently lick my hands 'Come on sunshine,' I said again, lifting His cold shivering little body into my arms Where he clung to me burying his head In my shirt
Wrapping my already very wet jacket Around a very wet and muddy little Dog didn't initially do either of us much Good, but our body heat soon got going And the joy on my part of rescuing a Defenceless animal has its own reward In terms of warmth
Was he lost or abandoned? I don’t know Who he belonged to I never found out Either. There was a number on his collar Which I rang every day for a week, but No one answered and so you find us still Together today my little orphan and I. As To his new name? Well, I dwelt on that For while before finally deciding to call
Him Storm
© Joseph G Dawson Vote for this poem
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