Poems by James J. Murray

As Boo took chase with focused haste, the squirrel ran up the tree. Once out of reach he began to preach, to Boo on bended knee -

"You awful mutt! You little scut! Why can't you let me be? And let me search from where I perch, without the need to flee"

Said Boo to the squirrel " You're a terrible feral! Who I just can't let be! You itch and twitch in wooded bliss and shake your tail at me -

Then shuffle and rustle as you start to hustle, and spring from tree to tree - How is it my fault? I seem to exalt, your innate need to flee"

In all the commotion the Boo had a notion to fleet for her afternoon treat. And early next morning as daylight was dawning, the squirrel was nowhere in sight -

He may have decided, to preach was misguided - to tarry would just be in vain. To linger and languish would just cause him anguish, and so he chose not to remain -

But Boo knew him better and thought him right clever, and felt he was not far away. She thought of his leaving as rather deceiving and he’d be returning some day -

Though sensing the moment, she beamed a great smile. Being free from that rodent - if just for while -