Moll's Poems

I missed Titch just as much as Suki missed Ted when he was away, and as I was feeling creative, I decided to write a poem. It was called Tuesday Nights, and it went like this:-

Tuesday nights are steak nights

I think

Lying on the bed

Nose on paws.

Look at her

Playing music,

Singing and dancing

Puts on a skirt

And paints her face

Before she goes out.

But I don’t mind

Because Tuesday’s steak night.

 

Wednesday breakfast

Is left over steak,

Bits of chips,

Cut up small, by him

In dog size, me size chunks.

 

Last night she ate early

Watching the TV.

That was wrong.

She played music and sang

But didn’t dance.

She laid clothes out on the bed

But put on jeans

And perfume

Not a skirt.

 

She came back early

Not late, with him.

She boiled the kettle

Put hottie in bed

Snuggled up with a book.

I sat there, waiting

Patiently.

Nothing.

 

This morning I got biscuits

For my breakfast,

And as we go out for our walk

I’m wondering

WHERE’S MY STEAK?

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I wrote this one after both Ted and Titch had been away for a long while. I didn’t know when I’d see Titch again, but Ted had rung to say he was coming back the next day.

I’m lying

In my favourite spot

Stretched on the bed

My back against hers

Thinking.

 

I’m lying

In my next favourite spot

On the settee

In the sunshine

Thinking -

Today’s Saturday

The sun’s shining

And he’s coming

BACK!

 

I’m lying

In the corridor

While she showers,

Singing as she

Washes.

She thinks I don’t know

But of course I do -

He’s coming back

TOMORROW!

 

I’m lying

Here while she brushes her teeth

Thinking

He should have come back

Sooner.

 

He needs to know

That we miss him

We love him

And have his best interests

At heart.

This one was called I MISS YOU MOST and I wrote it from Suki’s points of view when she desperately missed Ted one Christmas, and, of course, I was also missing my darling Titch.

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I miss you most

At 4am

When the world is dark

And sleepy slow

But my mind is

Sparky bright.

The only sounds

The ticking of the bedside clock

The gentle canine snore

In my ear.

 

I talk to you then,

Pretend you’re lying here

Beside me:

I lay my head

On your chest

And listen to the deep rumble

Of your voice

Against my ear.

 

I miss you most

In the small spaces

In between these words.

You’re there

In a heartbeat

In the background

All the time.

 

That’s when I miss you most.

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