“A Corgi that blows coat all year”

There’s fur in springtime, floating free—  
It flurries through the daffodils.  
It tumbles onto bended knee  
And gathers soft on windowsills.  

All summer long I sweep and sweep,  
Yet little tufts escape my broom.  
A blizzard at my feet will creep  
Around each sunny living room.  

October’s chill does not persuade  
This Corgi’s coat to snuggle tight.  
Instead, it fluffs—a golden braid  
That weaves itself through black and white.  

When winter piles the snow up high,  
The fur keeps falling, warm and bold;  
A constant cloud that will not die—  
More steadfast than the creeping cold.  

My Corgi’s tail is fox-brush grand,  
Her ears are sails in breezy gale;  
The tousled tufts from her command  
A castle built by fur’s own frail.  

Yet every morning, every day,  
I find her by the kitchen door.  
With wagging rump, she seems to say:  
“My fluff… is meant for you. Here’s more!”

Create Your Own Poem | Recent Poems