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Rod
Member
since 1999-12-08
Posts 149
Auckland New Zealand

0 posted 2007-02-15 01:16 PM



                                                        
They called him Samson, but in jest.
They knew he wouldn’t be the best.
The last of six, the little runt,
He’d never make it to the front.

And thus he grew, upon the farm,
Did little good, but did no harm.
But daily he was made to scoot
By dint of master’s savage boot.

Who cared but not a jot, it seemed,
If Samson yelped, or jumped, or screamed.
His favour was reserved indeed
For those first-born among the breed.

Yet Samson, though he’d been the last
Through all the years his faith held fast.
And not once did retaliate
Though gruff his master’s voice would grate.

He’d eat, and sleep, and lag behind
The others, and began to find
That not one noticed - even cared
Just how his little brother fared.

Engrossed, they were, with tending flock,
And all that moved on hoof and hock.
They were the finest - every one,
Let Samson take his kicks ... and run.

Then came one winter, bleak and hard
The snows were deep, the cold winds jarred.
The flocks were lost, their tracks were masked
So cruel the biting polar blast.

Old farmer Jack, he had no choice
And ventured forth with stick and voice.
Five collies of stout heart and breed
Just one remained...Jack had no need...

Of him, but after half an hour
A blizzard closed with awful power.
The evening, with deceptive haste
Would darkly cloak the frozen waste.


The dogs had scattered far and wide;
Old Jack had nowhere left to hide.
As driving snowflakes stung his eyes
He slipped, and fell with great surprise...

Then plunged into a gully deep
And landed in a tangled heap.
A broken ankle pained him sore
He tried to rise - but could no more.

Foreboding swept upon him there
For winter had him in her lair.
He knew too well a man could die
Beneath such unrelenting sky.

Soon darkness came  a-closing in
The snowstorm eased from thick to thin.
A frosty moonlight lit the scene;
No tracks remained where Jack had been.

He shouted to his dogs for help
In vain - there was no bark nor yelp.
Alone and cold, in fear and stress
Jack slipped into unconsciousness.

Much later, in the dead of night,
He re-awakened, numbed with fright
As paw-pads crunching on the snow
Seemed, in his mind, to come and go.

A sudden warmth upon his cheek!
He scarce could bring himself to speak.
Then came, at last, to realise
Such love... in Samson’s almond eyes.

“Me lad, I’ve done you dreadful wrong
My oath, this will be our swan song!”
Old Jack was failing fast... and so
Resigned to die there in the snow.

But Samson’s will was strong and bold
To keep his master from the cold,
All through the wee small hours he lay
His body like a warm duvet.

They lay together all night long
One heartbeat weak, the other strong.
The dying man, in rueful folly
Shielded by his Border Collie.

They found them in the dawn’s soft light
The rescue helicopter flight
Directed by a small black dog
Seen through the ice-cold morning fog.

“It was a close-run thing,” they said
“If not for him, you would be dead.”
Old Jack stirred from his still repose,
And Samson licked him on the nose.

...........................................................

Now, six months later, on the farm,
You may perceive (with certain charm)
Five collies sleeping in the shed
And one stretched out... on old Jack’s bed!

Author's note: I wrote this after my vet complained that my previous Border Collie stry "Storm" (though she liked it!)had such a sad ending. Thus I hope that this poem restored the balance!

© Copyright 2007 Rod Walford - All Rights Reserved
LeeJ
Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296

1 posted 2007-02-15 01:30 PM


a very touching story, and yes, great balance, not to mention, remarkable write
Earth Angel
Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215
Realms of Light
2 posted 2007-02-15 01:51 PM


What a captivating story ~ and a compelling read! Not only are you quite the raconteur, you are also quite a poetas well!

My attention ~ and my emotions! ~ were engaged from beginning to end!

I was moved all the more by the fact that I always root for the underdog! I am also a believer in Aesop's fable about the tortoise and the hair.

Sending a loving hug to you and to Storm who now dwells up in the big blue sky!

Linda

[This message has been edited by Earth Angel (02-15-2007 05:08 PM).]

Marge Tindal
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores
3 posted 2007-02-15 01:55 PM


Rod~
It shouldn't surprise you that I had a border Collie, named Killian ... he was so very special ... the years were kind to let us have so many of them together~

Thanks for this~
*Huglets*
~*Marge*~

~*The sound of a kiss is not as strong as that of a cannon, but it's echo endures much longer*~
Email -             noles1@totcon.com

Rod
Member
since 1999-12-08
Posts 149
Auckland New Zealand
4 posted 2007-02-15 11:42 PM


Oh Marge! I remember you telling me about Killian back in 1999....that's why I just knew you'd like this!!
Hugs

It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.

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