The fishbowl was filled with cloudy water
Little fish all floating on the surface
Next to their bloated brethren
Their vacation had ended in tragedy
And ours had now ended as well
The dog didn’t like the kennel
Complained of over crowded conditions
Barked that he and others had organized
And delivered a written and signed petition
Tired of fighting the good fight the Ol’ boy
He just yawned and stretched out as he assumed
His more familiar Laissez-faire position
The parrot was ecstatic to have made the trip
The tropical climate had suited his temperament
He squawked his excitement to return to his perch
As he was a little worn out from all the traveling
The wife looked for dinner in the freezer
To see what there was to defrost
Deciding there was little that could be ready by six
She picked up the phone and ordered out
The dog who had been reading my mind
Looked up with those big brown eyes
And moaned “Welcome home my friend,
Welcome the hell home.”
2008 © T Sheridan
Ted Sheridan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/home-at-last-4/
