Up all night,
out all hours,
howling at the Moon,
eating wild flowers,
chasing moonbeams,
spooked by bats,
hiding from the owls
running with the rats;
slinking in the shadows,
hanging in the trees,
gazing in wonder
at leaves on the breeze;
tired in the mornings,
just a useless lump,
crashed out, snoozing
‘gainst an old tree stump.
Graeme Sandford 