Light from the sun touches my face,
And I wake to see the room, things all out of place.
My eyes dart, my heart starts to race.
But then Jack bounds past and I have to give chase.
The cheeky terror, that naughty boy;
He managed to get the back door open, for Jack had a ploy;
To sneak into the kitchen and find a snack…oh joy!
The bin is tipped up, scattered with rubbish,
And he stands there, tail wagging….his face so coy.
“LOOK AT THE MESS!” I cry, “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”
That was when Jack drew back his ears, his tail….and hid.
I got down on my knees, trying to clean the mess;
And he sneaks up behind me, to lick my toes….~be kind, Mistress~
I stop with the cleaning, and see those…puppy dog eyes.
He is sad….he is sorry….his face can tell no lies.
So the moral of this poem, this tale of my morn.
If you are silly enough to leave the door unlocked;
You really have no right to show scorn.
I love my little Jack…he is my prize, my Prince.
But if he does this again….Oh wait…what is that sound?
HE IS IN MY BEDROOM…that is my Teddy he has found!
“JACK!”
