MY terroir, my companion

 

 

MY terroir, my  companion

 

 

My terroir, my companion, your well observant eyes,

wagging tail, running atter me, when man fails,

you seem to be more  dependable and loyal,

with cutely curled brown ears,  each day passes

with your friendly wag, sip of milk from plates;

the best  comrade for man in  times of distress

and desolate mood beyond articulation.

In desolate  winter, shrinking like foliage

In corner, snooze till a pat comes to you;

Whether by a stone or a  mound, your wary

Looks when cautious , a curiosity and check;

All the  passersby  mutually nodding and go,

A philosopher hiding behind the skin.