The Love Child
“It” made its way into the life
Of someone who did not suspect
That his forever-prankish wife
Would strive for an all-out effect.
She told me of an odd event:
An increase in the family—
By gosh, by gum! I do declare,
How in tarnation can that be?
Does this not call for two at all?
She told me, with that special glow
Of one who is expecting, “True—
But things do happen, as you know . . . .”
She chuckled, clucked—just like a hen,
Gave full release to bubbling mirth—
And then I heard loud yippy-yap
And saw the scrambling little squirt
That briefly paused to wet the floor—
Yes, Dachshund right down to the nose,
With Min-Pin legs that were too long;
“It” squatted in that telling pose.
This love child of an unlike pair
That coupled without wedding vow,
Inherited one thing both shared:
Their urge to bark and pee and chow.
It is a poem’s absolute perfection that can lead to its imperfection.