Max ** Options

[Eisa]

I've been experimenting with this one


When the sun shines,
I see him basking
among the Daffodils


Hair shaved.
Needle in.
It takes seconds.

A blanket gives false comfort.
There is no movement
on your jungle green bed.

We absorb every feature
before vividness fades into memories.
You no longer feel your collar, removed.

All nod agreement and heave you
into the old barrow
last sniffed when full of compost.

A discarded bath robe your cover
we begin a sedate walk, steadying
the single wheeled hearse

to the vegetable patch where ground
gapes to swallow you,
We stand on the edge bearing gifts.

Gravy bone biscuits,
your favourite hide chew,
and a rope toy,

Earth to earth, dust to dust ...

Taking turns to shovel back the soil.
you gradually disappear until
only your pirate patch remains,

Storm clouds gather to shroud the sun.
A bunch of bulbs scooped from the border,
is replanted over you.

Goodbye

Now mud no longer paw- prints
kitchen tiles nor drools
pattern the patio door.

White hairs still contrast black trousers
Your aura lingers and sometimes I'm sure
I hear your medallion jingle.

---------------------------------------------
Max

Hair shaved. Needle in. It takes
seconds. A blanket gives false
comfort. There is no movement
on your jungle green bed.

We absorb every spotted feature
before vividness fades into memories.
You no longer feel loving hands
remove your collar.

All nod agreement and carefully
heave you into the old barrow
that you last sniffed when full
of compost for replanting the tree.

We cover you in a discarded bath robe
and begin a sedate walk, steadying
a single wheeled hearse, to the vegetable
patch where the ground gapes from

removing the Braeburn tree.
We lower you, wrapped in blue stripes,
then stand on the edge like three Wise Men
bearing gifts.

Biscuits for your insatiable appetite,
a hide chew, your favourite treat
and a rope toy, to remember your playfulness.
Earth to earth, dust to dust ...

Taking turns to shovel back the soil.
you gradually disappear.
When only your pirate patch remains,
storm clouds begin to shroud the sun.

Goodbye.

A bunch of bulbs scooped from the border,
is replanted over you. We drag back indoors
where mud no longer paw-prints kitchen tiles
nor drools pattern the patio door.

Yet white hairs still embellish black trousers
and I'm sure I hear your medallion jingle.
Your aura remains and when the sun shines
we'll see you basking among the daffodils.

[Psyche]

Dear Eisa,
Your poem about your small, family burial and goodbye to Max makes me tearful. It's so realistic. I can view the whole procedure, out of the house and down to the vegetable patch.
I can't think of any nits, except to ask why you put 3 instead of Three Wise Men, with or without Caps.
Your title could be simply Max. I'm sure you've thought of that. I'll read thru' again now, perhaps leave a few comments.

Hair shaved. Needle in. It takes
seconds. A blanket gives false
comfort. There is no movement
on your jungle green bed.

I've been through that with my wonderful dog Cheetah. Your vet was very respectful. Mine didn't shave the hair. I suppose because infections were out of the question. Sad.


We absorb every spotted feature
before vividness fades into memories.
You no longer feel loving hands
remove your collar. <<<<<< 'Tis done. Straightforward. I like that.

All nod agreement and carefully
heave you into the old barrow
that you last sniffed when full
of compost for replanting the tree.

No need for words...I imagine you nodding in silence.

We cover you in a discarded bath robe
and begin a sedate walk, steadying
a single wheeled hearse, to the vegetable
patch where the ground gapes from

removing the Braeburn tree.
We lower you, wrapped in blue stripes
then stand on the edge like 3 wise men <<<<<You prefer 3? If you use 'three', then you can drop part of L3 to L4. Just sayin'...

bearing gifts.

Biscuits for your insatiable appetite,
a hide chew, your favourite treat
and a rope toy, to remember your playfulness.
Earth to earth, dust to dust

Taking turns to shovel back the soil.
you gradually disappear.
When only your pirate patch remains,
storm clouds begin to shroud the sun.

Goodbye.

So definite, final. Did storm clouds really gather? Either way, it's still a good metaphor for the event. This part brings more tears to my eyes.

A bunch of bulbs scooped from the border,
is replanted over you. We drag back indoors
where mud no longer paw- prints kitchen tiles <<<<extra space after dash, I think.

nor drools pattern the patio door.

Yet white hairs still embellish black trousers
and I'm sure I hear your medallion jingle.
Your aura remains and when sun shines
we'll see you basking among the daffodils.

So true. One hears sounds and sees visions of one's loved ones for a long time.
This is such a sincere tribute to Max, Eisa. For me, it's the simplicity of your words that makes it resound in the reader's mind and heart.

Many hugs, Syl***

[Eisa]

Dear Eisa,
Your poem about your small, family burial and goodbye to Max makes me tearful. It's so realistic. I can view the whole procedure, out of the house and down to the vegetable patch.
I can't think of any nits, except to ask why you put 3 instead of Three Wise Men, with or without Caps.
Your title could be simply Max. I'm sure you've thought of that. I'll read thru' again now, perhaps leave a few comments.


Hi Syl,

It was something that had to be written - part of the healing process. This is exactly as it happened.

I'm glad you mentioned the 3 Wise Men, I hadn't even realised it wasn't written as a word 'three'

Hair shaved. Needle in. It takes
seconds. A blanket gives false
comfort. There is no movement
on your jungle green bed.

I've been through that with my wonderful dog Cheetah. Your vet was very respectful. Mine didn't shave the hair. I suppose because infections were out of the question. Sad.


I hadn't met the vet before, he was the call out service and probably spent most of his time 'putting to sleep' and I feel this made him very respectful. He also had an assistant who 'found a vein' so that everything went smoothly. It made the situation a little more bearable.

We absorb every spotted feature
before vividness fades into memories.
You no longer feel loving hands
remove your collar. <<<<<< 'Tis done. Straightforward. I like that.

All nod agreement and carefully
heave you into the old barrow
that you last sniffed when full
of compost for replanting the tree.

No need for words...I imagine you nodding in silence.

We cover you in a discarded bath robe
and begin a sedate walk, steadying
a single wheeled hearse, to the vegetable
patch where the ground gapes from

removing the Braeburn tree.
We lower you, wrapped in blue stripes
then stand on the edge like 3 wise men <<<<<You prefer 3? If you use 'three', then you can drop part of L3 to L4. Just sayin'...

Have changed that - so glad you mentioned it

bearing gifts.

Biscuits for your insatiable appetite,
a hide chew, your favourite treat
and a rope toy, to remember your playfulness.
Earth to earth, dust to dust

Taking turns to shovel back the soil.
you gradually disappear.
When only your pirate patch remains,
storm clouds begin to shroud the sun.

Goodbye.

So definite, final. Did storm clouds really gather? Either way, it's still a good metaphor for the event. This part brings more tears to my eyes.

It was a gloomy day, Syl, but the storm clouds were a metaphor for the way we all felt.

A bunch of bulbs scooped from the border,
is replanted over you. We drag back indoors
where mud no longer paw- prints kitchen tiles <<<<extra space after dash, I think.

nor drools pattern the patio door.

Yet white hairs still embellish black trousers
and I'm sure I hear your medallion jingle.
Your aura remains and when sun shines
we'll see you basking among the daffodils.

So true. One hears sounds and sees visions of one's loved ones for a long time.
This is such a sincere tribute to Max, Eisa. For me, it's the simplicity of your words that makes it resound in the reader's mind and heart.

[b]I often used to 'hear' my old collie and sensed her sitting in the corner. All that stopped when we had Max. She had been gone 4 years and it was almost as though she felt I'd be ok.

Hugs
Eira
Many hugs, Syl***[/b]

[Luce]

I'm so sorry for the lost of your dog, Max. I've been through this with both of my elderly cats. They died 5-6 months apart from each other.

Your poem is a loving tribute to him. Max was lucky that he had a loving home with you. So many are not so lucky.

Max

Hair shaved. Needle in. It takes
seconds. A blanket gives false
comfort. There is no movement
on your jungle green bed.

We absorb every spotted feature
before vividness fades into memories.
You no longer feel loving hands
remove your collar.

I would put "loving hands remove your collar" instead.

When my cats died, I also removed their collars and tags. But, I did it gently as if they were sleeping and I didn't want to wake them. I guess I was in denial even though I held them in my arms while it was done.

All nod agreement and carefully
heave you into the old barrow
that you last sniffed when full
of compost for replanting the tree.

Maybe "placed" instead of "heave". "Saying "placed" sounds gentler and it was a loving act you performed.

We cover you in a discarded bath robe
and begin a sedate walk, steadying
a single wheeled hearse, to the vegetable
patch where the ground gapes from

removing the Braeburn tree.
We lower you, wrapped in blue stripes,
then stand on the edge like three Wise Men
bearing gifts.

Biscuits for your insatiable appetite,
a hide chew, your favourite treat
and a rope toy, to remember your playfulness.
Earth to earth, dust to dust

Maybe ellipses after the second dust ("dust..."). It kind of invites the reader to complete it - "Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.."

Taking turns to shovel back the soil.
you gradually disappear.
When only your pirate patch remains,
storm clouds begin to shroud the sun.

Goodbye.

Maybe put "goodbye" as the closing line since
more was done for Max or maybe not at all.

A bunch of bulbs scooped from the border,
is replanted over you. We drag back indoors
where mud no longer paw-prints kitchen tiles
nor drools pattern the patio door.

Yet white hairs still embellish black trousers
and I'm sure I hear your medallion jingle.
Your aura remains and when sun shines
we'll see you basking among the daffodils.


I'd add "the" before "sun".

I love the use of altys here. No hard rhymes. It flows smoothly and reveals the moments honestly.

Luce

[greenwich]

Very moving sorry about your loss. Very sad and the absolute pathos is strung together line by line
A blanket gives false hope is a perfect summation of the disorientation of parting

[Eisa]

Hi Luce,

Thank you for giving me something to think on here.
Yes, I feel pets are family members and we miss them so much when they're gone.

I'm so sorry for the lost of your dog, Max. I've been through this with both of my elderly cats. They died 5-6 months apart from each other.

Your poem is a loving tribute to him. Max was lucky that he had a loving home with you. So many are not so lucky.

Max

Hair shaved. Needle in. It takes
seconds. A blanket gives false
comfort. There is no movement
on your jungle green bed.

We absorb every spotted feature
before vividness fades into memories.
You no longer feel loving hands
remove your collar.

I would put "loving hands remove your collar" instead.

When my cats died, I also removed their collars and tags. But, I did it gently as if they were sleeping and I didn't want to wake them. I guess I was in denial even though I held them in my arms while it was done.

Yes, it's so easy to be in denial. Just after they've gone they still look as though they're sleeping.

I wrote 'you no longer feel ....' to emphasise that he couldn't feel anything anymore.

All nod agreement and carefully
heave you into the old barrow
that you last sniffed when full
of compost for replanting the tree.

Maybe "placed" instead of "heave". "Saying "placed" sounds gentler and it was a loving act you performed.

I'll think on this suggestion, Luce. I used 'heave' to show how heavy he was - a big dog

We cover you in a discarded bath robe
and begin a sedate walk, steadying
a single wheeled hearse, to the vegetable
patch where the ground gapes from

removing the Braeburn tree.
We lower you, wrapped in blue stripes,
then stand on the edge like three Wise Men
bearing gifts.

Biscuits for your insatiable appetite,
a hide chew, your favourite treat
and a rope toy, to remember your playfulness.
Earth to earth, dust to dust

Maybe ellipses after the second dust ("dust..."). It kind of invites the reader to complete it - "Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes.."

Yes, good idea!

Taking turns to shovel back the soil.
you gradually disappear.
When only your pirate patch remains,
storm clouds begin to shroud the sun.

Goodbye.

Maybe put "goodbye" as the closing line since
more was done for Max or maybe not at all.

I feel this was the point when we all said goodbye

A bunch of bulbs scooped from the border,
is replanted over you. We drag back indoors
where mud no longer paw-prints kitchen tiles
nor drools pattern the patio door.

Yet white hairs still embellish black trousers
and I'm sure I hear your medallion jingle.
Your aura remains and when sun shines
we'll see you basking among the daffodils.


I'd add "the" before "sun".

I love the use of altys here. No hard rhymes. It flows smoothly and reveals the moments honestly.

Luce

Thanks Luce - always good to hear from you!
Eira

[Eisa]

Very moving sorry about your loss. Very sad and the absolute pathos is strung together line by line
A blanket gives false hope is a perfect summation of the disorientation of parting

Thank you Antony!

Eira