
You wake this morning,
My Tiny One,
Your morning of sun and warmth,
Mine of damp, dense fog.
Yet, I know,
Know you’ve found them all,
The squirrel hunter,
The gentle soft one,
The lion-hearted protector,
And the human,
The human I told of,
Whose pockets contain
Tasty treats,
Who is a warrior, like you,
Tiny One, like you,
Whose body now whole,
No longer wasted at all,
Now strong.
This human can throw the ball
All day long for you,
And you, my Tiny One,
No longer standing on shaking, wobbly,
Wasted legs which seek to betray,
Can chase and chase and chase
That ball all day,
Returning it each time
To the human who
Like you, my Tiny One,
With battles fought and done,
With all the wars won,
Runs, runs free now, Tiny One.
So now, my Tiny One,
All your battles done,
All your wars won,
Run, run free, Tiny One.
Life is a lonely place for those unwilling to risk failure,,,maybe they expect too much…
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Oh, lovely. Any one who has loved and had to let go one of these special friends (no matter the size or shape) feels this poem deeply. I do. Thank you.
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Thank you.
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