Trotting gayly through the brush
Never thinking of looking back
Always never in a rush
Full of energy never lacked

In a hush of fearless dreams
Creating where there never was
Frolicking in miniature streams
Rushing through in ever cause

Sniffing along her whole body a nose
Taking all so very deep inside
Roaming along with all of those
Bemoaning just those that hide

Her ears on track to encompass all
Whatever sounds which lurk
In Winter, Summer, Spring and Fall
Her whole self at always perked

Beyond her passions brought to play
Remains a steadfast ready tear
Bemoaning just she could not stay
Our Lady gone but yet a year