Skip to main content

POPPY

POPPY 

She came to me on a frosty December

A Christmas gift with fur of hue cinnamon and ginger


A pup she was swaddled in a basket, opal eyes gazing at me filled with wonder

With patches of white on padded paws, playfully she would bound helter-skelter


Poppy the pup snuggled by my side on cold, freezing nights

Seasons changed and soon she got over all her fright


Thumping her tail she would charge forward

Backyard was her favourite spot to laze in the sun and chase a songbird


Poppy yelped at passing cars and Poppy howled at the moon

Poppy was a sweetheart who grew into a cuddly bear too soon


Splashing in the sea or running in the sand

Poppy loved the beach and slurped ice-cream off my hand


Her love was true and she was loyal

Looking puzzled when I was morose, her head bumps and cuddles made me again jovial


With the wind in her face she loved car rides

A smiling dog there never was one, Poppy was my pride


Poppy had her bad days when she was under the weather

You could see me praying to all the angels to make her feel better


Poppy was a warrior and she leaped back to health

She would sneak up on me, she was a master of stealth


Except for a day when Poppy refused to recover

She lay down lazily and to her fate did  surrender


Twelve years and more Poppy was a star

Now she's over the rainbow bridge the brightest one from afar


Poppy's bite marks on my slippers and her name tag with collar

The books which Poppy chewed are still in my drawer


The dog bowl sits in its usual place so familiar

I would never move Poppy's things, never in a million years, oh never!


Poppy now rests eternally in the sunny spot she loved so much

In the backyard garden surrounded by flowers which sway with a light touch


Poppy is now pain free and I know she's happy

In the Happy Hunting Grounds patiently waiting for me to join her eventually.


©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy: Pixabay 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird, its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has saile...

BOKETTO

  In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments.  The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

A-Z Blogging Challenge Theme Reveal

Hey everyone! April is almost upon us and it reminds me of my childhood summer vacations, visiting my cousins in different cities, playing with them and watching movies late into the nights, brunches, more outdoor skips and hops and when the boiling sun drove us indoors, how the tangy, icy lemonade pitchers awaited us.  April is also about April showers, new beginnings and of late —the month of blogging! I'm excited to announce that I'll be participating in the A-Z April Blogger Challenge, starting on April 1st! This challenge is all about pushing myself to create new content, connect with fellow bloggers, and have immense fun while doing it. Throughout the month, I'll be posting daily(except on Sundays) on a variety of topics, ranging from personal reflections to mixed random bags of thoughts especially bordering on memoirs and non fiction. That's something I excel in apart from writing fantasy and the paranormal.  2025 will see my blog Sanguine Allegory bustling with ...

HILANG

  Chapter 2               Muay, the Maddening Scamp Seasons had gone by with vibrant autumns and chilling winters. Muay Thai had now  become very outgoing and social. On a full moon night, this newly transformed scamp  had bounded away on some nocturnal adventure.  I waited for her return for almost a week. As I searched high and low for Muay Thai, my heart raced with panic with every passing moment.  On one of my search treks, I spotted something that made my blood run cold. Lying on the ground, partially hidden by the underbrush on the curbside, was Muay Thai's collar. The vibrant fuchsia leather was faded and dirty, but the delicate zircon pendant still sparkled in the sunlight and that had caught my attention. Holding it gently in my hands, I examined it for any sign of what might have happened to Muay Thai. But there was nothing - no blood, dried or otherwise. Maybe, just maybe, Muay Thai was still out there, waiting ...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

  As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day.  I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children.  The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here.  The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apartm...