A Gift of Sanctuary

This poem is dedicated to my friend Suey Parkinson, and to those who devote
their lives to helping animals.
We rejoice with them in their successes; and with them we grieve
the ones they cannot save.
Please remember them, and send what you can spare.
Even the smallest
donation helps, and is thankfully received.

The Gift of Sanctuary

She gives them all that she has earned
And asks for nothing in return
Helps other rescues if she can
Does the raking, loads the van
Drives the tractor moving earth
Helps a little sow give birth

Mends the fences, hauls in hay
Feeds and vets during the day
Plans her life round piggies' needs
Creates gardens, plants and weeds
Works at night away from home and
Hates to leave her "kids" alone

She's always there with outstretched hand
To help new parents understand
The ways of porcine progeny
(I must admit to some degree
She keeps me laughing with her tales
Of sanctuary life's details)

She rises early, grabs her boots
(With Spot and Dukey underfoot)
Trots downhill to the Angel's pen
To check on Perce, who's ill again
She helps old Bubba to his feet
Then warms some food and helps him eat

Looks in on Lucky, tucks him in
Goes round to Odie, who's getting thin
He isn't doing well these days
With effort, care and love she prays
He'll live another while or two
His youth regain and health renew

But as with all, as time goes by
He'll lose his spark, grow dim of eye
No longer steady on his feet, yet
Still and all, his life's been sweet
He's had the best that there could be in
Suey's loving company

A little pack of piglets run
Down the hillside, full of fun
They cheer the heart, delight the soul
Jump up on Arnold, then they roll
Back off again, go flying by with
Smiling faces, tails held high

Would that I were rich, and then
I'd set aside this aging pen
After taking moments to bestow
A large donation , as I hope you know
I wish you time to pet and play
And time to rest at end of day.