Yes! Your fealty is matchless.
On that wintry morning in the wee hours
Your solicitations at my door step
Broke my sleep and fanned my temper
And I almost lost hair
In trying to hit you with whatever I could lay my hands on
Oh, me! What a look that was!
It would curdle even death in its tracks.
The whiff of cold air
Catalyzed your pleading looks for an entry
Through the grills
And turned me instantly into a saint.
I was no animal lover
And never kept one ever.
But you turned aces up
And I fell for those seraphic looks.
My cherub Asmita and you
Made instant friends
And you became her canine comrade
Against all our will to the contrary.
That ad of a cell phone
Had become so real at my home
With you complementing her
And companioning her
In all your wakeful hours.
But I am afraid,
There are people here in our parts
Who vie and outwit you in loyalty
Not only licking the boots of their masters
But even the naked foot prints
On the paths they tread.