Bruvver Brae turns his paw to ... erm... verbal art.

A poem by Brae Softshadow

LOVE

There are so many fings in my life that I love,

sausages, biscuits and that old leather glove.

Stuff in the rubbish bin, sunny spots on the floor,

my box of half eated toys and the draught by the door

My dad’s socks, the middle of my dad’s bed,

my dad’s car where I hang out my head.

Chasing squiggles in the park up the trees (aaaarrrrrggg pesky Squiggles)

Long walks by the seaside and that cool winter breeze,

The lamp post on the corner and the one up the road,

the woods where I live especially when its snowed.

The fields and the meadows with a sharp winter frost

the streams and rivers (well the ones that I’ve crossed)

A pond, any pond as long as it’s wet,

my bruvver, my mum and even the vet.

Sheepsys, piggys, an orse and some cows

the doggo over the road when my dad allows.

They pale to insignificance when i see you

and my flopperty heart skips a beat or maybe two.

My darling food bowl, where have you been,

it’s been hours since last you were seen.

[dad had to do a interpret and type cos bruvver Brae is wubbish on a keyboard]