By Elise Paschen
You’re out. The house is dead. With me:
You’re safe. Why not stay home, instead, with me ?
That Ur prince whisked you off past four.
At my leash-end, you’re not misled by me.
He’s like a tide. He comes. He goes.
I’m always here. Life’s anchored with me.
My needs are few: a bowl, a lead, some love.
You won’t get in the red with me.
You never have to cook, just pop a Mighty Dog:
a snap to have breakfasted with me.
He paws, he yaps, he barely listens.
I’m all ears. Much is left unsaid with me.
Maybe I have my quirks (stairs scare, streets clank),
But you’ve always kept your head with me.
He is six foot one. I am one foot high.
Don’t ever let him tread on me.
Though small, I claim my space and like you snug.
(It’s tough sharing a bed with me.)
My name is Samson. Yours is Paschen.
So keep your name and stay unwed with me.
- Sam
Comments : And after last week’s poem from a she-dog to her master, here is one from a he-dog to his mistress. I love the reasons given by the dog to convince his mistress that he is better than a human boyfriend.
Notice the brilliant contrast the dog brings out in
‘He’s like a tide. He comes. He goes.
I’m always here. Life’s anchored with me.’
Also,
‘He paws, he yaps, he barely listens.
I’m all ears. Much is left unsaid with me.’
:-) Awesome, isn’t it ?
- Zen
1 comment:
Not many people have attempted Ghazals in English, and fewer still have remained true to the form. Although, this one is fickle, if one keeps in mind the traditional subjects of the Ghazal, it is perfect in form.
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