Looking For My Dog On Darkest Night by Frances Riel
Night's dark face did frown on every step,
Boreal wind hindered the pace she kept;
The only guiding lights were early stars
To dimly light the way she'd come so far.
The snowy stardust glazed a downcast cheek
And freezing form, the warmth of home to seek;
What kept a slow pace on a frozen way
Were mournful plaintive howls from far away
Where once had been another warmer time
On frozen nights where stars could wink and shine
And peek through frosted pane at both asleep
With promises of stars and moon to keep;
wood barrels round so full of all things gold
near wagging tail that years ago grew old
As all things do when fires start to wane
And icicles freeze and hide the windowpane.
And so the clatter of bygone kitchen chores
Through years of opening and closing friendly doors
And warmest welcomes with ecstatic barks
Still yet, resound in woods so cold and dark
Where once the mossy glen and pasture wheat
With golden hours and endless dreams to keep,
Where once the sunny violets and goldenrod grew
And roses scented air with morning dew-
But now the brambled woods looked darkly down
At the frozen figure's whiteness on the ground
Neath which the countryside greened as if by charm-
And there the dog's mirage lay in her peaceful arms.
A man cannot forget his memories deep,
Despite what frozen snow would try to keep;
And so on Christmas Eve quite still and white
They both crossed Rainbow Bridge on darkest night.
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