ODE TO WINTER
The winter's day is at it's end,
He sits quietly, his trusted friend, Jesse lays at his feet,
They watch as the wood crackles under the dancing flames,
Cascading measured shadows on the wall.
The winter is a lonely time of year for the master,
Jesse, the noble boxer, his only companion,
Together they immerse themselves with the warmth of the flames,
The crackle of the wood, the only sound.
Then, as the clock strikes, they rise,
Shuddering they quiver at the thoughts entering their minds,
Then with coat buttoned fully, head encased within a cap,
The door opens, the master pulls tight on his collar, Jesse, shivers at the chill.
Into the frigid, cold darkness of winter they must brave,
Onward they walk the master and his friend,
In the distance, a sparkling of light from porches,
Homes of those long ago tucked into their beds.
The night air is brisk, and chills to the core,
A walk enjoyed by both, yet draining and taxing at times,
A need, a must to be done,
The cold harsh night cannot be left unattended.
Then without a word spoken both master and friend,
Look at each other and both know time has come,
Time to turn and head for home,
Quietly then, they turn now faces, to the harsh winter wind.
Words, the first to be spoke, come from the master. saying,
Perhaps, Jesse my loyal companion, a hot chocolate for me,
Complete with tiny marshmellows, a good size bone for such a wonderful ally,
Their pace quickens with the thoughts these words embed.
Then silently, once again onward they meander, til,
At the foot of the drive, they pause to look,
There is their home as humble as is, yet comfort and shelter from the harsh winter air,
Memories of a warm cozy fire refreshes them and together they roll in the snow.
Master and canine, enjoying as they frolic making tracks in freshly fallen glistening white,
New snow, reflecting the full moons light,
For no matter what time the clock may say,
Time for play depends not on the clock, but the players hearts.
As they enter, the door squeeks penetrating the still night air,
A snicker crosses the master's face, a reminder that he should have oiled that long ago,
Water is put onto the stove to boil, a bone is readied for Jesse, when water is done,
A new fire is lit and the flames slowly grow.
Together now, once again, on this lonely wintry night, Master and canine,
By the fire they rest, wood crackling under, the dancing flames,
Cascading shadows on the wall in full array,
Quietness, has overcome the air, save for the sound of the flames.
As the flames wither, becoming small,
Master says time for bed,
Jesse, extends fully with agreement,
Thank God for this day, it has been tops.
Sheltered from the wind, the cold, the snow,
Warmed by fire, fueled by nature's wood,
Mother Nature, is all her glory, gives and takes, as each contend to
endeavor their best,
Each day brings it's own set of challanges.
Thank God for this and other days,
They have been all good with pain and strife along the way,
Each one a learning experience, a gift from above,
Thank God for this and other days, and my lessons in life.
