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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=402942" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Dog</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You little friend, your nose is ready; you sniff,<br>Asking for that expected walk,<br>(Your nostrils full of the happy rabbit-whiff)<br>And almost talk.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so the moment becomes a moving force;<br>Coats glide down from their pegs in the humble dark;<br>The sticks grow live to the stride of their vagrant course.<br>You scamper the stairs,<br>Your body informed with the scent and the track and the mark<br>Of stoats and weasels, moles and badgers and hares.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We are going OUT. You know the pitch of the word,<br>Probing the tone of thought as it comes through fog<br>And reaches by devious means (half-smelt, half-heard)<br>The four-legged brain of a walk-ecstatic dog.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Out in the garden your head is already low.<br>(Can you smell the rose? Ah, no.)<br>But your limbs can draw<br>Life from the earth through the touch of your padded paw.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, sending a little look to us behind,<br>Who follow slowly the track of your lovely play,<br>You carry our bodies forward away from mind<br>Into the light and fun of your useless day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus, for your walk, we took ourselves, and went<br>Out by the hedge and the tree to the open ground.<br>You ran, in delightful strata of wafted scent,<br>Over the hill without seeing the view;<br>Beauty is smell upon primitive smell to you:<br>To you, as to us, it is distant and rarely found.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Home ... and further joy will be surely there:<br>Supper waiting full of the taste of bone.<br>You throw up your nose again, and sniff, and stare<br>For the rapture known<br>Of the quick wild gorge of food and the still lie-down<br>While your people talk above you in the light<br>Of candles, and your dreams will merge and drown<br>Into the bed-delicious hours of night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Harold+Monro">Harold Monro</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=402942" data-title="Dog de Harold Monro" data-description="You little friend, your nose is ready; you sniff,
Asking for that expected walk,
(Your nostrils full of the happy rabbit-whiff)
And almost talk.

And so the moment becomes a moving force;
Coats glide down from their pegs in the humble dark;
The st..."></div>
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