The Seasons of Frankie
Spring
Frank just had a bubble bath
he's white as he can be
but look! what's this?
a mud abyss?
he stomps in it with glee
Summer
Riding in the golf cart
our Frankie Would arrive
a sweet white blur
of wind-swept fur
comes flying down the drive
Fall
A friendly lap is mighty nice
when sitting by the fire
all bundled up
a toasty pup
he's got his hearts desire
Winter
Here comes little Frank E. Stein
in his Santa suit
all red on white
I think he might
be make you giggle cute
It's hard to loose a Barnie
no matter big or small
we'll miss him much
'cause he was such
a big part of us all
2 comments:
Pam - what a wonderful poem! I know that I haven't known Frankie as long as most of you, but he was a special little guy, and I think your poem fits him to a tee. Thank you for sharing!
Hi Pam,
I love your poem. It is Little Frankie. Charlie made a really neat tomb stone for him. It's not the same with out him. Awful quite, no Frankie barks. Seems wierd. He will be missed.
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