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See more images on my other websites below:-\
www.petportraits.org - www.isabelclarkpaintings.freeserve.co.uk
www.icpetportraits.com - www.icpaintings.com - www.isabelclarkpaintings.com
Poems of Animals
Rudyard Kipling
The Power of the Dog
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I beg you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
But...you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
When its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept "em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong.
A short-term loan is as bad as a long--
So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Frances Clark 1946 - Copyright - All Rights Reserved
Shadows
When shadows of the evening fall,
Across the grass and down the wall,
Their soft and gentle mantles hide
Your resting place since you have died.
But sometimes, when the moon is high,
I feel your loving presence nigh.
A gentle touch, a click of claws,
Your shadow follows me indoors.
When memories flood over me,
I sense your head upon my knee,
And when my tears fall down apace,
I feel your breath upon my face.
For Death to part us seems so wrong,
But my life's journey won't be long,
Years have passed since the day you died,
Soon Death will lead me to your side.
We will meet again that happy day.
For this I hope. For this I pray.
The Good Shepherd in Heaven above
Will reunite us in his love.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
To A Young Ass, Its mother being tethered near it
Poor little foal of an oppressed race"
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd,
That never thou dost sport along the glade:
And (most unlike the nature of things young)
That earthward still they moveless head is hung?
Do thy prophetic fears anticipate,
Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate?
The starving meal, and all the thousand aches
"Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes"?
Or is thy sad heart thrill'd with filial pain
to see thy wretched mother's shorten'd chain?
And truly, very piteous is her lot -
Chain'd to a log within a narrow spot,
Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen,
While sweet around her waves the tempting green!
Poor Ass! thy master should have learnt to show
Pity - best taught by fellowship of Woe!
For much I fear me that He lives like thee,
Half famish'd in a land of luxury!
How askingly its footsteps hither bend?
It seems to say, "And have I then one friend?"
Innocent foal! thou poor despis'd forlorn!
I hail thee Brother - spite of the fool's scorn!
And fain would take thee with me, in the Dell
Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell,
Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride,
And Laughter tickle Plenty's ribless side!
How thou woulds't toss thy heels in gamesome play,
And frisk about, as lamb or kitten gay!
Yea! and more musically sweet to me
Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be,
Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest
The aching of pale Fashion's vacant breast.
William Blake 1757 - 1827
The Tyger
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of they heart?
And when they heart began to beat,
What dread hand? And what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
John Masefield 1878 - 1967
A Fellow Mortal
I found a fox, caught by the leg
In a toothed gin, torn from its peg,
And dragged, God knows how far, in pain.
Such torment could not plead in vain,
He looked at me, I looked at him.
With iron jaw-teeth in his limb.
"Come, little son," I said, "Let be.....
Don't bite me, while I set you free."
But much I feared that in the pang
Of helping, I should feel a fang
In hand or face .......
but must is must .........
And he had given me his trust.
So down I knelt there in the mud
And loosed those jaws all mud and blood.
And he, exhausted, crept, set free,
Into the shade, away from me;
The leg not broken ......
Then, beyond,
That gin went plonk into the pond.
Frances Clark 1946 - Copyright - All Rights Reserved
Always Near
A dog's small world is full of dreams,
Of full food bowls and scents unseen,
Of open fields and cosy chair,
And, most of all, you standing there.
And when the end is drawing near
And you are trying to stem your tears,
He licks your hand with happy sigh,
Content that you are standing by.
And when he reaches Heaven's Gate,
The Lord says, "Come." But he says, "Wait.
"I have a friend I love so dear
And I can feel her footsteps near."
Your lifetime's passed. You near God's throne.
One happy glance. You're not alone.
Your loving pet, so patient waits,
To pass with you through Heaven's Gates.
Frances Clark - 1946 - All Rights Reserved
New for Old
I remember once, my world was warm.
My mistress loved me so,
But she was old and in poor health,
And so I had to go.
I first went to a pound for strays,
In the hope I'd find a home,
But I too was getting on in years,
So I was left alone.
Young pups came and soon went out.
We old ones lingered there.
After a lifetime of being loved,
Is there nobody else who'll care?
And then, one day, one special day,
A couple smiled at me.
They came closer talking gently,
And my old eyes tried hard to see.
I sniffed their outstretched hands with care.
They gently stroked my head.
Yes, they smelt kind - I liked this pair
"We will take this one." They said.
Author Unknown
Beneath the Chestnut Bough?
On your grave beneath the chestnut bough,
Today no fragrance falls, nor summer air,
Only a master's love who laid you there,
Perchance may warm the air 'neath which you drowse,
In dreams from which no meal-time calls may rouse,
Unwakable, though close the rat may dare,
Deaf, though the rabbit thump in playful scare,
Silent, though twenty foxes screech their vows.
And yet, mayhap, some night when shadows pass,
And from the fir the brown owl hoots on high,
That should one whistle 'neath a favouring star,
Your shade shall canter o'er the grass,
Questing for him you loved in days gone by,
Ere death, the dog thief, carried you afar.
See more images at my other websites:-
Pet portraits and Greeting Cards of your pets, dogs, cats animals, or landscapes make very special gifts and Cards.
If you do not have any clear, close up photos of your pet, take some NOW.
If your pet has sadly died and it is too late to take any clear photos I will willingly look at your photo and let you know if it is clear enough. I love my pet portrait work, but one of the saddest aspects is where an old pet has died and the owner has no clear photo to remember their friend by, or, indeed, to create a pet portrait memorial to their lost one. So take those pictures now, even if you do not yet decide on a painting of your pet.
All images on this website are the copyright of Isabel Clark BA (Honours) Fine Art - Pet Portraits - Isabel Clark Paintings - All Rights Reserved
