Game of Cones

I have a dog whose name is Spark

Who sometimes takes me to the park

Where we enjoy an evening stroll

I feed the ducks; he’s on patrol.

An old pro, Spark knows all the tricks

From playing dead to fetching sticks

His latest one involves a scheme

Which bags him loads of free ice cream.

He’ll spy a toddler on his own

Who’s struggling with a waffle cone

One far too big for little hands

And all the balance that demands.

Spark uses charm and big, brown eyes

To get him closer to the prize

Then as he nears these little ones

That’s when he grabs the cone and runs.

I’m deeply saddened by each theft

And every howl from the bereft

Whose double-scoops of lemon lime

Perpetuate this life of crime.

The mothers round on Spark and curse

So I make sure they’re reimbursed

Which throws the whole plan in reverse

For he was taught to steal a purse…

Another Mist Opportunity

Image result for funny cloud

I’m known to stretch out on the lawn
Amidst the weekend carry-on
Of mowing, trimming, watering
And folks I know I ought to ring.
Just when it starts to get too loud
When life can push and kids can crowd
Before the next field’s needing ploughed
I lay right back and pick a cloud.
The dogs, alerted, circle me
Unsure if they should stay or flee
They know each trick, each ruse I use
To wrestle them in ones and twos.
Eventually they come to rest
On either side, heads on my chest
And then the three of us just stare
At our own clouds a way up there.
Marshmallow Fluff or Dairy Whip
A giant dollop on the lip
Of Heaven, cruising like a ship
That’s drifted, noiseless, from its slip.
I want to jump and land on it
And try my best to stand on it
Then sink into its spongy core
While eating handfuls from its store.
They have no map, no place to be
You can’t catch clouds because they’re free
To nonchalantly skirt your town
And make us run when they come down.
The trouble is, they take their time
And doing so, robs me of mine
So up I get – no time to lie!
Until the next cloud passes by…