Thursday, December 27, 2012



Comfort dogs  have been in the news

For reasons that are sad,

And yet the devotion of these dogs

Makes us feel very glad.

I've seen them working in Old Age Homes,

Where they pad about the place,

Bringing a smile of tenderness

To many a wrinkled face.

They lay their  heads on bony knees

And gaze with soulful eyes,

Only asking a friendly pat

That nobody denies.

I wonder  what goes on in their minds.

Are they merely highly trained?

Or have they a true nobility

Which is never strained?

We'll never really know, of course,

But they truly seem to care

And human beings who feel dismayed

Are glad that they are there.


A girl! A girl! A girl is born!

Here are the clothes that must be worn!

The ribbons, flounces, all in pink;

Yes, all can see she's on the brink

Of a girlie, girlie life,

Sweetheart, mistress, glamour-girl, wife.

Even a pink rose in her hair,

When the hair is hardly there!

And when she's grown she still will be

Pinked out in femininity.

This is where the pinkness starts,

The desire to be the Queen of Hearts.

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