TO A PORCELAIN PUPPY DOG

By Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

Oh, pudgy porcelain puppy dog from far-away Japan,

I saw you in a shop to-day where lonesomely you sat

Upon a velvet cushion that was colored gold and purple,

Between a bowl of goldfish, and a sleeping wooden cat.

I wonder what you thought about as stolidly you sat there,

A grin of faint derision on your pudgy porcelain face;

I wonder if you dreamed about some cherry blossom tea house,

And if the goldfish bored you in their painted Chinese case?

I wonder if you hated us who passed, you by unheeding,

You who had known the temples of another, older land?

And, oh, I wonder if you knew when I had paused beside you

To pat you, porcelain puppy dog, that I could understand?