Maisie

She waits, alert and patient,
Waiting for she knows not what.
But when it comes, she's up...
Eager for food, a walk, recognition.
Her head low, her body long,
She rests and waits until...
Ears twitch, head lifts and 
She peers under long eyebrows.
She waits.
Does she ruminate on yesterday?
Is she considering tomorrow?
She is waiting; waiting for the day.
I reach across and stroke her silky fur.
I nuzzle her neck and caress her ears.
She pleads me with her eyes,
Then lowers her head and waits.

Published by poetdoesarun

I started running 14 years ago to help manage anxiety and depression and found the endorphins helped me in another way...to write my sermons for Sunday.... and then inspiration came for poetry. A Christmas present 2017 was a book by Jo Bell, challenging the reader to write a poem a week for a year. This blog showcases these and other poems composed on the run.

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