A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Love is a fledgling learning to fly,
a glint of a kill in an old tiger's eye,
treacherous too, as the crocodile's smile
and patient to wait, like the sloth, for a while.
Love's a spring flower ready to bloom,
the flash of her calf when she walks in the room,
a skip of the heart as she catches your eye,
unbelievably-beautiful blue of the sky.
Love is the hunger that has to be fed,
an aching that won't go away in your head,
Olympic pursuits in the back of a car,
gently insisting, you won't go too far.
Love is a token, a valuable gift,
That can jump up and bite you, give you short shrift,
Love makes you foolish, witless, absurd,
At the end of the day, it's a four-letter word.