Muse, sing
a mournful song for a dog now dead, known as Gunner,
Who, for schoolboys, provided a source both of hope and
of grief.
Black was his shape, like a monster's; his tail was the
longest on record;
As for his parentage - well; actually, nobody knows.
Constantly haring about the fields, not still for an
instant,
Chomp! Willy-nilly he'd seize anything lying about.
Boys used to shout and give chase: nine times out of ten
this was useless.
Gunner was only too glad to escape to wherever he could.
Few were the flowerbeds safe from his onslaught - should
I saywhirlwind? -
For anything just planted out sheer devastation ensued.
Then one day, that was it: he dared to bite one of the
parents,
A woman, minding her business quietly out on a pitch.
The boss pronounced sentence of death: so for you,
importunate Gunner,
None shall there be for companion but three-headed
Cerberus - ha!
|