Best Friends

Two best friends went out each day
And ventured to the park.
They played some catch with balls and sticks,
Then one would chew on bark.

When it got dark they went back home
Then watched TV and ate.
One would handle the remote.
The other licked his plate.

When it got late they went upstairs
And off to bed to rest.
One would lie down on his back
The other on his chest.

The two best friends were so content
While they were lounging there.
One would scooch and nuzzle up,
The other pet his hair.

And there they were, two buddies,
It stayed like that for years.
Then, as life goes, one passed away.
The other soaked in tears.

The dearest of companions
Were sadly pulled apart.
One went up to heaven
And broke the other’s heart.

But death’s a start; it’s not the end.
This story isn’t done.
Since these two friends will play again
And heaven’s much more fun!


I’d hate to ruin images you may have imagined after reading this poem, but I may do that by sharing some of the story behind the poetry. Click the following to see a picture that I illustrated of one of the “best friends” of this poem (he’s the one with the tongue hanging out). And the link will also tell you who the two friends are.

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