by Kristin Nelson
BEAU
By:Jimmy Stewart
And there were nights when I'd feel your stare
And I'd wake up he'd be sitting there.
And I'd reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
And I think I know why.
He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things.
And he'd be glad to have me near.
And now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us.
And I pat his head.
And there are nights when I think I feel his stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair.
But he's not there.
Oh, how I wish that wasn't so.
I'll always love a dog named Beau.
In loving memory of my Golden Retriever Alex. Who I will love forever.