"Farewell Jezebel"

They say poetry is depressing
None more so than tonight
I've just done my first feature
Which was a real delight.
A couple of friends came up from Kent
They wanted to hear what I read
But now I've just got a text
To hear his beloved dog is dead.
I was on such a high
Now my spirit's hit the floor
Can't begin to contemplate his shock
After his key turned in the door.
It was a dog he rescued
Beaten in the street
'Let her down' by going to poetry
Now lying dead at his feet.
I hope he doesn't blame himself
For not being there at the end
What thoughts are going through his head
I can't begin to comprehend.
Truth is he loves his animals
More than any bloke I know
To lose his darling Jezebel
Will be such a blow.
But think of the love you gave her
When you saved her from strife
Ending all that cruelty
And gave her a new life.
Take comfort from the fact your a good bloke
Who offered her a second chance
A mate I'm proud to have as a friend
Who saved her without a glance. 
That's what makes you special
The fact you couldn't walk by
Hold your head up shed your tears
For tonight you deserve to cry.

Dulwich Poet 14th December 2014

(I was buzzing last night, having done my first ever 'feature set' at a poetry night, up in central London. I was well pleased that two mates of mine had come up from Kent to listen to me, even though they're 'not into poetry'. As I sat on the late night bus home I got a text from Tony, he'd got home to Chatham & his gorgeous pet dog Jezebel had died. A dog he rescued from someone beating it in the street, a few years ago. This poem is for him and Jezebel...)