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And nows it time for a couple of poems so first of all its one I wrote about the old man as his dog dynnargh welclome falite croeso

February 6, 2015

AS the old man sits by the door in his old comfee armchair and like him the chair is old like so many years before as he reamembers far oft days when he was care free and gay as he reamembers his time rolling in the hey and the long hot summers of far of days as it brings a smile to his face as he sits there as he looks at the fire place with the two candle sticks with the candels burning with there disstintive light that as they flicker they show shadows that look like they dance around the room as the fire of logs burn there firery glow with the old kettle by the side of the hearth on its trivet the old dog too so old lay snowing with paws a twitching as it dreams of chashing things around could it be a rabbit as the old grandfather clock stricks 8 as the logs spitin the grate as the dog awakes and goes to his master to lick his hand like to say its time for walkies for the last time today as the old man awakes his struggels to his feet with his old pipe in the old ash tray as he goes to the hall and put s his old flat cap like so many times before as he tapps his pipe and puts the fresh tobacco in it as he lights the match as sucks away and soon like the fire its all a glow as they go out side the door in to the darkness theres the old lamp waiting there as the man gets it and takes of the shade as he turns the wick and lights the lamp and puts on the shade as they go on there way as the old dog runs down the lane as they pass the old row of houses as they here the child again crying his heart out as they see the lights flicker as they walk by as the biteing wind whissles as the trees bend backwards and forwards and sidewards to like they doing a dance for you as the old owl in the old oak tree see some quarry in the moon light as far away as you can see and before you know oft hes goes to catch his tea and soon the clouds come over and all there is is the flicker of the old lamp as its starts to spit with rain with the mists coming over the moors again as the old man whissles to his faithfull frend as they together again as they rush back in side the old man putts another lot of logs on the fire again as he places the old kettle over the grate as with candle he goes to the kitchen and puts it on the old wooden table as the wind howls through the cracks and crannys through the old winders and door as he goes to the old pantery  there as can be is his cheese and butter and all his goodies for he and as he kettle whissles its own tune as with tea pot in hand and puts it on the hearth and goes to get the old cloth to lift it off the fire as its hot as he fills the pot and leaves it to stand .back in to the pantry he goes and in the old pot theres the old batterd biscuit tin as he opens it theres just two left as the old dog heres the ruzzeling of the packet from the tin the old man breaks on in half hes boy good dog as the dog chews away they go back and with jug and cup in hand he poors the tea as the goes back to his old comffee chair and over there the dog goes back to his sleep as the candles burn out the room just has the warm glow of the fire as it flickers it red orange glow in the room as they snore as they sleep the old man and his faithfull dog THE END SLAN.

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