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Three Dog Poems

Hush And Hound

I have a silent whistle (that’s
   The sort that no-one hears
Except, they say, for passing bats
   And fine-tuned canine ears)
But as it speaks, a ghostly thin
   Near-noiseless monologue
It’s clear enough the answering din
   Is from no silent dog.


Change of Pens

An author whom few cared to read,
    Tired of neglect, or critics’ titters,
Bought bitches, found a place to breed,
   And proved at least a man of litters.

Bred For Head?

A terrier a couple bought
Had lots of brains but little muscle
But wins in shows, the pair report,
When entered as a Bertrand Russell.



Jerome Betts


If you have any thoughts on these poems,  Jerome Betts 
would be pleased to hear them.


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