The water surface shimmers in the drinking bowl
As car tyres crunch on gravel in the sharp morning chill.
There is no dog to greet us at the turning of the drive.
No wagging tail forgives our weeks abroad.
No gaunt grey muzzle is laid across our knee.
Your lead and collar are our noose and gallows tree.
No bones cast on the castle floor from the lord’s table,
Hence no more largesse. No ancient retainer
And hence no more lord and her ladyship no less.
You do not stand bow-legged and rheumy eyed
To gaze across the frosty lawn, hence no demesne.
Nah then my bonny lass, why didst tha have to die
When we were far across the sea and never ending sky?
There is no curl of smoke from the chimney pot
No warm fire burning in the welcome hearth,
No bright candle glowing in the window pane,
Nothing to guide us home to you again.