A perfect realm for pets and all
is a home with one perfect call.
A stolen, forgotten lost ball
hums the ‘Om’ to some recall
Her journey has been a long haul
by enduring his lonely stall.
Her tick had to take a great fall
but once again is standing tall.
“Providence is on your side wall,”
said Peter the rock to St. Paul,
whose work is in the learning hall
by signing symbols with his scrawl.
The horse’s mouth and pots of call
have approval down to a crawl.
A juvenile may be quite small.
He has nothing compared to Gaul.
He is not alone with his squall
or her constant bickering brawl.
He has the truth without the pall
by complying with the fair ball.
A poem of five, four-lined stanzas with eight syllable in monorhyme.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Hello Flynn, nice, and good luck!