Let me tell you a story,
About a couple across the street,
They had a pond with guppies,
And a guarden from which they could eat,
Fish and chips, cucumber sallad,
All that was missing,
was a lad and a lassie...

That was the dream,
A family of four,
But as they grew old,
They knew they could never afford,
The man grew grumpy,
Shovel was his name,
Because joy was lost,
So his wife he shoved away...

Her name was Little,
Shorter than a teen,
The shortest old lady,
I had ever seen,
But she was the kind one,
Patient and sweet,
As long as her husband,
Could stand on his feet...

One day Shovel,
Fell on his knees,
Fell in the pond,
Rest in peace,
He was sleeping sound,
That was how he was found,
He was an old man,
One who had drowned...

I remember how she changed,
Little was so devastated,
Leaving her thoughts,
Went insane,
Captivated,
On finding Shovel even if he was dead,
Even if she saw,
The hole he went in by a shovel,
Under his favorite tree...
He wasn't gone, he couldn't be!
She had cried,
Finding a place to hide...

After her hiding,
Little came out,
To start her search,
And sever her doubt,
Her memory was drifting you see,
So she thought contently,
That he would be sitting,
by his old oak tree...

Everytime,
Her search led her there,
And everytime,
She only could stare,
At the grave with his name,
Carved in the black,
Making her fall once,
From a fatal heart attack...

(Inspired by my two turtles. One passed away a while back and the female turtle Little has tried to flee from the aquarium to find him many times since he died. Saaaaaaaad, I feel sorry for her, but I'm planing on getting a new friend for her soon. I don't want her to die alone like the inspired poem lady...)