My little Snoopy.
My beacon of light.
How the world has changed
Since you left my sight.
We are in spring now
The sun has returned!
Melbourne is singing,
Our lessons, learned.
I wanted to write
To tell you of home.
Your sister is sick
No longer, she roams.
You both were buddies
Playing in the house.
Running to the lake.
Bringing home that mouse.
I see you down here
On your Blue bean bag
Sleeping so soundly
Both your tails would wag.
You escaped the wrath
Of Mother Nature
But old tired Blue
Withstood the torture.
Why? Where did you go?
Leaving without word?
Up there in heaven
Playing with the birds.
My little Snoopy,
As pure as the snow
Watch over your sister
She needs her little bro
Poetry
The Eagle
The eagle watches
From the top of his tower
And cries to his people
At the stroke of an hour:
“With an open mind
and audacity to learn.
Whoever seeks shall find,
And their wisdom shall be earned.
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When all is said and done
In the ground the cracks show,
The remnants of hail and snow.
Although the storm has long since passed,
The residue will always last.
In this place of wilting flowers,
She anticipates the closing hours.
Her petals fall through the ground,
Lost forever, never found.
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Shallot
Watching the season’s come and go.
Tiny bulbs in the earth below,
From Surrey’s meadow, we did grow.
Our destiny we did not know.
Summer plucked us from the ground,
And exiled us – for a measly pound!
Farmer Trumps made no sound!
For mother’s hot pot we were bound…
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Possibility
Possibility,
Searched for an open sky.
Forever ascends.
Mountains higher than the last.
Hope and Faith unrelenting.
Charlie Ann Alford 