STAN

STAN


His unkempt inky raven coat
His shy rheumatic trudge
His gentle knowing chocolate eyes
His, heat, his breath, his touch.

His snowy mouth, his wet jet snout
His regal solemn moods
His reticence, his earthy stench
His tranquil attitudes

His one side worn uneven claws
His standing still and blocking doors
His filthy teeth, his air of peace
His love of being yours.

His caper and his booming woof
His vestiges of youthful play
His nasal prompts for tactile warmth
The world ordains can no more stay.

Not recondite essentially
Was he without a voice
And in my mind and heart shall stay
Man’s best friend and best choice.



TIM SANSOM WINTER 2000