A p.o.e.m

This is a poem about how much Barney hates me:

The Notebook

My dog has a secret notebook,

which he hides in his bed,

inside he writes of many things,

Such as river dips and walks,

And lady dogs and cats,

And circumventing squirrels.

Anything like that.

I’ve never seen his notebook

But I know he writes

in it when nobody is looking.

Page upon page upon page

Of amusing anecdotes

And canine ruminations

In scratchy print.

I often feel him staring at me,

But when I look

he turns his head as if he wasn’t,

He’s thinking what to write

About me his in pad,

Scrawling my name

Over and over.

One time I tried to find it,

But he’d hidden it well.

And when he came back from the garden,

He eyed me suspiciously.

He hasn’t trusted me since.