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Bloomin' Mongrel

I must surely confess
that this comment is true
may ye Gods come and bless
Christmas Day just for you.

As the day leaves behind
all its sounds and the light
you just rest and unwind
with sad eyes, blue and bright.

There is not on this globe
even one who could give;
like the lights of a strobe
you are mine and you live

for your master, that's me
you impose no condition
could I be a small flea
we would surely go fishing.

poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Added by Poetry Lover
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