Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Women's Day Doggerel

Pharyngula: International Women's Day

The Dog and the Bitch shared a spot in the shade,
And soon fell to weighing their lot;
The bones they had buried, the messes they'd made;
The draughts they had drunk from the pot.

The afternoon passed like a sun-speckled dream,
With friendship maturing apace,
Till all that remained was one dying sunbeam,
And a chill wind to blow in one's face.

The Bitch grew reflective as day turned to night.
Her aspect grew pensive and terse.
She turned to the Dog and said "Can it be right
That you inspire homage and verse;
Yclept Man's best friend, and kept close by his side,
Whilst my very name is a curse?"

The Dog scratched his ear, for he had no reply.
They watched the sun sink in the west.
A cow lowed from somewhere; a donkey passed by;
The Dog turned to his fireside nest.
The Bitch, left outside with the cloud-looming sky
Went under the back porch to rest.


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