The Dog Sonnets


My dog did find a patch of sun or bit


My dog did find a patch of sun or bit
And drop her loved head and her rump in it.
Her eyes did smile and smiling she did sit
And go to be in fields that god had lit.

My dog was something more than I could be
Or was just like me when I was not me.
She felt the sun and feeling it was free
On floors I walked and where I did not see.

My dog did shine as the one jewel I’d keep
Or as the one true gem I would not own.
Her light did burst and bursting she did seep
And is my eyes and so I’m not alone.

My dog was something when she was not more.
My dog did find the patches on the floor.

Dogs on floors in beams and wilds


For every dog that’s gone or gone today


For every dog that’s gone or gone today,
And everyone that ever loved a stray,
For every dog that never learned to stay,
For every dog that’s died or died away,

I know a stranger tell the blessed past,
The many years and of the final last,
I know a photo crumpled wallet-cast,
I know a sunned street met on much too fast,

I know a last word and the lasting blow,
“You are a good dog and I love you—go—”,
I know a last wag I don’t want to know,
I know a saint named Francis who helped show.

For every dog that’s died I listen well.
I speak to women and the men who tell.

Dogs in memories told on town corners


When you are gone again, it is not me


When you are gone again, it is not me,
But she, who lays her chin on your blue feet,
Then warm and warming keeps your beat.
So when you go away, it isn’t me.

When you are far from here, it is not me,
But she, who looks up and sees your blue tear,
Then close and closing drags her rear.
So when you go away, it isn’t me.

When you are long gone love, it is not me,
But she, who leans her head on your blue thigh,
Then for and with you breathes your sigh.
So when you go away, it won’t be me.

When you are long gone then, it won’t be me,
But she, but she, but she, but she.

Dogs in trials of left love stories


My days of days were burned in noons that wore


My days of days were burned in noons that wore
Them flat, them hot, in god’s world and god’s floor;
Their breathing was one, was two, three, was four:
I heard god’s beasts as I had heard my roar.

My days of days were swelled in darks that rose
Them close, them mute, in god’s wind and god flows;
Their lifting was tail, was neck, eyes, was nose:
I held god’s wrath as I had held my foes’.

My days of days were bud in eves that drew
Them fast, them gold, in god’s wood and god flew;
Their running was us, was us, me, when true:
I helped them go as god had helped me through.

My days of days were them and them and me
God meant, god meant, and this is all I’ll be.

Dogs in summers of suns and tempests


Tomorrow is the day you pass to there


Tomorrow is the day you pass to there—
Today I cut your ear, and cut your hair;
Remember how you warm within my hands,
How many times you’ve stayed to my commands.

Tomorrow is the day you win all best—
Today I cut your paw, and cut your chest;
Remember how you warm within me palmed,
How many times you’ve lain to me singsonged.

Tomorrow you will fly past the thronged crowd—
Beribboned more than gold, the white of shroud;
Remember how you warm within my eyes,
How many times you’ve spun to my surprise.

Tomorrow is the day you pass my dear—
Remember I love you, and now the shear.

Dogs in true arms of faithful groomers

“The Dog Sonnets” © 2015-2016 Asha Olivia All Rights Reserved