The sausage dog

Sometimes i write little poems, im weird like that!

Yesterday I wrote this limerick about poppet:


He’s quite a funny little dog,
His body’s shaped just like a log,
He’s cute, people think,
But his breath does stink,
One time he encountered a frog.

A hobby of his is to scratch on the door,
And licking my face if I lie on the floor,
And oh how he mocks,
By stealing my socks,
Still, I could not love him more.

The name of this terror is poppet,
He runs about like a rocket,
He swims like a seal,
It adds to his appeal,
When ground isn’t dry he gets mocket.