Poem: Waiting For The Master

Waiting For The Master


By Norm Olson, Nikiski

With a ball by its side our old dog died

In the place it had laid each day.

And we remembered how it had whimpered and cried

Each time my Father had to travel away.

Time was when they’d follow a trail

Or play in the afternoon sun.

Its love song a sigh and the wag of its tail

At Father’s feet when the long day was done.

“Now you wait here,” was all that Dad said,

“I will come back later and then we will play.”

And Father drove down the road wherever it led

And his dog waited and watched all day.

And there near the drive it laid through the night

And was there when the sun reached its crest.

But while his dog watched and awaited his Master’s sight

Elsewhere we laid Father to rest.

Yes, faithful to my Father was that gentle old dog

As each day it returned to that place,

Awaiting the touch of his Master’s hand

And the smile on his Master’s face.


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