Down the lane under the trees
Reaching the latch first, lifted it carefully and quietly
Not to disturb the reverie of the place.
But he and it was always a he
Came barking and bouncing, full pace, to see who intruded there.
No bigger then a foot high, like a bundle of curled white wire
He protestested.
Waiting for a retreat, seduced by his water bowl
Finally peace was restored.
Some days he was out on his walks.
Then the garden lit up without fire.
And we two children were the ones running wild.

Love Mary x