Here’s to you Wally Marie,
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sometimes called Pontoof by me.
Then there are times we see Loofy
when digging like hell; acting goofy.
And often it’s Schlomo we see.
Each night Ellis sleeps with me.
Sometimes you are Woodrow;
Woody for short…
Occasionally little Alice will wheeze or snort.
The Prince of St. Petersburg struts to the vet.
El O’ El can be a rambunctious twit.
Sir Woodness you’re a valuable cuss,
known by numerous names to us.
We call you Al and Wallace too,
You answer to all our names for you.
Though it’s Elwood you were born to be,
but here’s to you, Wally Marie.
I read your poems
rich and sweet
then lay roses at