RockStar, Bandit & Kali hanging around the trash

Like a little girl playing for her dolls

Fantasy audience

I gently remove my ukulele

From its Sixties psychedelic gig bag

And the dolls come alive

No, no longer a little girl

Dolls are replaced by dogs

Another fantasy audience

Max the Rottie

And RockStar the Chi-Bull

Immediately lie down on the futon

Bandit the Toy Fox Terrier

Snuggles in his quilted crate

While Kali the Rattie

Always an opportunist

Always kissing up to the hand that feeds her

Sleeps between my feet under the computer table

On a Dollar Store padded dog bed

I play all their favorites

Apologizing to them when

My hand mis-frets

(Is that a word?)

Their eyes close in ecstacy

So I imagine

As I belt out folk songs

Beatles songs

And other easy-chords tunes

With lyrics that I know verbatim

When finished, they are asleep

And I feel like a little girl

Successfully lullabying her baby dolls

Into doggie dreamland

Where full-bellied canines

Wander around a world

Of endless soft sand

Of bones and bowls of beef and

Of music soothing the savage breast

Where hearts beat with love

For their human who knows what they need

What we all need

Each and every day…

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)


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