“bichon frises”

A fluff of cloud upon the green,  
A puff of joy with eyes that gleam,  
A twirl, a leap, a bark, a breeze—  
Oh, what delight! The Bichon Frise.

With coat as soft as spun-out snow,  
A dandelion on the go,  
He prances through the living room,  
A pirouette, a flower’s bloom.

A nose that’s black and button-round,  
With laughter trailing every bound.  
His merry heart, a skipping song  
That coaxes weary days along.

In city parks or seaside air,  
You’ll find his spirit everywhere.  
He’ll chase the pigeons, beg for treats,  
Find magic in the simplest streets.

He rides upon a velvet throne  
(That happens to be your armchair’s own),  
And rules his kingdom, small and wise—  
The prince of fluff, the Bichon Frise.

So praise the joy this pup conveys  
With twinkling eyes and clown-like ways:  
A friend, a sprite, a living tease—  
The white delight, the Bichon Frise.

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