FURBALLS OF JOY...

Tiny furballs of blissful innocence,

Filled to the brim with exuberance,

Sociable as ever and taking every chance,

To chewing jeans and fingers.

The set that stays right outside the park,

Each with a little fiery spark,

Squeaking while learning to bark,

All while tackling each other.

The moment their mother Smiley comes around,

She will be dragged to the ground,

Due to their hunger abound,

All I can do is pet and keep her smiling.

Such beautiful smiles,

As they sleep in piles,

Or choose to sleep in styles,

Which I can only imagine would be comfortable.

Six small furballs as sweet as pop tarts,

Capable of melting anyone’s hearts,

Yes, these little pups are indeed an art,

Those teensy weensy jolly little puppies.

WRITTEN BY,

R. MAHIMA RAM