If there is no sidebar on the left, please click here
Pet Portraits and Animal Paintings in Oils or Watercolours and My favourite Poems of Animals
by
Isabel Clark Paintings
Make Very Special Gifts or Cards
See more of my paintings on my other websites:-
www.isabelclarkpaintings.freeserve.co.uk - www.icpetportraits.com
www.isabelclarkpaintings.com - www.icpaintings.com - www.petportraits-england.com
To a Siamese Cat
I shall walk in the sun alone
Whose golden light you loved.
I shall sleep alone
And, stirring, touch an empty Place.
I shall write uninterrupted.
(Would that your gentle paw
Could stay my moving hand just
Once again).
Michael Joseph
The
Power of the Dog
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I beg you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
But...you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
When its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept "em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong.
A short-term loan is as bad as a long--
So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Rudyard Kipling
Shadows
When shadows of the evening fall,
Across the grass and down the wall,
Their soft and gentle mantles hide
Your resting place since you have died.
But sometimes, when the moon is high,
I feel your loving presence nigh.
A gentle touch, a click of claws,
Your shadow follows me indoors.
When memories flood over me,
I sense your head upon my knee,
And when my tears fall down apace,
I feel your breath upon my face.
For Death to part us seems so wrong,
But my life's journey won't be long,
Years have passed since the day you died,
Soon Death will lead me to your side.
We will meet again that happy day.
For this I hope. For this I pray.
The Good Shepherd in Heaven above
Will reunite us in his love.
Frances Clark 1946
To A Young Ass, Its mother being tethered near it
Poor little
foal of an oppressed race"
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd,
That never thou dost sport along the glade:
And (most unlike the nature of things young)
That earthward still they moveless head is hung?
Do thy prophetic fears anticipate,
Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate?
The starving meal, and all the thousand aches
"Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes"?
Or is thy sad heart thrill'd with filial pain
to see thy wretched mother's shorten'd chain?
And truly, very piteous is her lot -
Chain'd to a log within a narrow spot,
Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen,
While sweet around her waves the tempting green!
Poor Ass! thy master should have learnt to show
Pity - best taught by fellowship of Woe!
For much I fear me that He lives like thee,
Half famish'd in a land of luxury!
How askingly its footsteps hither bend?
It seems to say, "And have I then one friend?"
Innocent foal! thou poor despis'd forlorn!
I hail thee Brother - spite of the fool's scorn!
And fain would take thee with me, in the Dell
Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell,
Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride,
And Laughter tickle Plenty's ribless side!
How thou woulds't toss thy heels in gamesome play,
And frisk about, as lamb or kitten gay!
Yea! and more musically sweet to me
Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be,
Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest
The aching of pale Fashion's vacant breast.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Tyger
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of they heart?
And when they heart began to beat,
What dread hand? And what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
William Blake 1757 - 1827
A Fellow Mortal
I found a fox, caught by the leg
In a toothed gin, torn from its peg,
And dragged, God knows how far, in pain.
Such torment could not plead in vain,
He looked at me, I looked at him.
With iron jaw-teeth in his limb.
"Come, little son," I said, "Let be.....
Don't bite me, while I set you free."
But much I feared that in the pang
Of helping, I should feel a fang
In hand or face .......
but must is must .........
And he had given me his trust.
So down I knelt there in the mud
And loosed those jaws all mud and blood.
And he, exhausted, crept, set free,
Into the shade, away from me;
The leg not broken ......
Then, beyond,
That gin went plonk into the pond.
John Masefield 1878 - 1967
Always Near
A dog's small world is full of dreams,
Of full food bowls and scents unseen,
Of open fields and cosy chair,
And, most of all, you standing there.
And when the end is drawing near
And you are trying to stem your tears,
He licks your hand with happy sigh,
Content that you are standing by.
And when he reaches Heaven's Gate,
The Lord says, "Come." But he says, "Wait.
"I have a friend I love so dear
And I can feel her footsteps near."
Your lifetime's passed. You near God's throne.
One happy glance. You're not alone.
Your loving pet, so patient waits,
To pass with you through Heaven's Gates.
Frances Clark 1946
New for Old
I remember once, my world was warm.
My mistress loved me so,
But she was old and in poor health,
And so I had to go.
I first went to a pound for strays,
In the hope I'd find a home,
But I too was getting on in years,
So I was left alone.
Young pups came and and soon went out.
We old ones lingered there.
After a lifetime of being loved,
Is there nobody else who'll care?
And then, one day, one special day,
A couple smiled at me.
They came closer talking gently,
And my old eyes tried hard to see.
I sniffed their outstretched hands with care.
They gently stroked my head.
Yes, they smelt kind - I liked this pair
"We will take this one." They said.
Frances Clark - 1946 - All Rights Reserved
Beneath the Chestnut Bough?
On your grave beneath the chestnut bough,
Today no fragrance falls, nor summer air,
Only a master's love who laid you there,
Perchance may warm the air 'neath which you drowse,
In dreams from which no meal-time calls may rouse,
Unwakable, though close the rat may dare,
Deaf, though the rabbit thump in playful scare,
Silent, though twenty foxes screech their vows.
And yet, mayhap, some night when shadows pass,
And from the fir the brown owl hoots on high,
That should one whistle 'neath a favouring star,
Your shade shall canter o'er the grass,
Questing for him you loved in days gone by,
Ere death, the dog thief, carried you afar.
Author Unknown
Have You a Dog in Heaven?
Have you a dog in Heaven, Lord?
And do you pat its head?
Does he sit up and beg each night
before he goes to bed?
Does he look up with shining eyes
when he sees Your smiling face?
Does he wag his stubby little tail
when he wants to run a race?
Have You a dog in Heaven, Lord?
Is there room for just one more?
Cause my little dog died today;
he'll be waiting at Your door.
Please take him into Heaven, Lord.
And keep him there for me,
just feed him, pet him, love him, Lord,
that's all he'll ask of Thee.
Author
Unknown
A Dog Sits Waiting
A dog sits waiting in the cold autumn sun,
Too faithful to leave, too frightened to run.
He's been here for days now with nothing to do but,
sit by the road, waiting for you.
He can't understand why you left him that day.
He thought you and he were stopping to play.
He's sure you'll come back, and that's why he stays.
How long will he suffer? How many more days?
His legs have grown weak, his throat's parched and dry.
He's sick now from hunger and falls, with a sigh.
He lays down his head and closes his eyes.
I wish you could see how a waiting dog dies.
by Kathy flood
(Originally Appeared in Ann Landers)
An Owner's Plea
Please, God, if You should hear a scratch on Eden's Gate tonight,
A gentle whine, a muffled bark; have Peter take a light
And open up the Pearly Gates and call her Spirit in,
For I think she lived in Heaven once; please take her back again.
She may have been a mongrel, without a pedigree,
Yet she was noble, kind and good; I think You will agree:
That she'll be very useful where the souls of children play.
She'll romp with them, and see; Dear God; they do not go astray.
Just tell her that we're sorry that we could not pat her head,
And whisper how we loved here 'ere her Spirit fled.
I pray that when death beckons, and my soul surmounts life's fog,
I'll rate a place in Heaven, Dear God, beside our dog...
Author Unknown
A Pet's Plea
If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep
Then you must do what must be done
For this, the last battle, can't be won.
You will be sad- I understand
Don't let your grief then stay your hand
For this day, more than all the rest
Your love and friendship stand the test.
We've had so many happy years
What is to come can hold no fears
You'd not want me to suffer, so
When the time comes, please let me go.
I know in time you too will see
It is a kindness you do to me
Although my tail, it's last has waved
From pain and suffering I've been saved.
Don't grieve that it should be you
Who has decided this thing to do
We've been so close, we two these years
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
Author Unknown
by
Isabel Clark Paintings
Make Very Special Gifts or Cards
Pet Portraits of Dogs, Cats, Animals, Wildlife, People, Landscape Paintings & Greeting Cards created from Your Own Photos
All images on this website are the copyright of Isabel Clark BA (Honours) Fine Art - Pet Portraits - Isabel Clark Paintings - All Rights Reserved