[Here, the second installment of my epic poem from 2016. A related ode, “The Dogs of Sunville,” appeared last summer and celebrated Kemba’s life on the beach. The rhythm and theme of all three follow Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s “Casey at the Bat,” which is, more or less, the only poem I know.]
It’s been six years since last I sang about this wondrous place,
Where Ricky once did beg for treats; now Kemba balls does chase.
Though time has passed, the saying’s true: Some things they never change,
Dede’s still the mayor, and Sadie still does range.
There’s Ana, ever searching for a heart under each leaf,
She wears her title proudly: Winslow’s Dog-Walker-in-Chief!
Another ‘walker do I spy, she sports leggings of black,
The face, it looks familiar: It’s Margaret and her pack!
A gent inquires, “Nova Scotia Duck Toller?”; I ask him how he knew,
“My name is Mike,” the man replies, “and I’m from ‘Scotia, too!”
Right on cue, there’s Dodger — another Tolling Retriever,
“He’s just like Kemba!” Claire declares, and I certainly believe her.
When last I rhymed, a pup K was, not quite two years of age,
But time flies by; the young ‘uns now consider him a sage.
“Stop!” he’ll tell his nephew Pickle, “Don’t put that in your mouth!
Go play tug-of-war with Scout, your half-sister from the South.”
I spot Max, Retriever tan, with a ball orange and blue,
A different Mike does chuck it far — and Kemba chases, too!
We walk next on a woodsy trail, the dogs both striding tall,
Until we note Max missing: He’s off trying to eat the ball!
The unleashed dogs, each single one, prefer to stay forever,
“To the car, good boy,” I finally say; K’s look, it answers: Never!
But to the backseat, up he jumps, as I slowly drive away,
“Kemba, no need to hang your head — tomorrow’s another day!”
YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW BEAGLE MAN, KEMBA, AND RICKY ON FACEBOOK AND INSTAGRAM.
My poetic hat is off to you. The subject is grand, the rhymes are okay, so I think I’ll stop and call it
a day.
Just okay? 🤣