The afternoon begins to fade,
The sunlight stretches into shade.
And there she lies upon her rug,
Her little paws tucked in so snug.

Her golden face, her whiskers white,
Her eyes still shining in the light.
A thousand things I could adore,
Yet somehow, watching, I love more.

And when the evening settles in,
And all the house grows quiet again,
I find her watching from the floor,
As though she’s waited evermore.

I wonder what those eyes can see,
That makes her spend her days with me.
For I am just a simple man,
Who does the little things he can.

I cannot tell her all I feel,
Or how her quiet love is real.
But every time our glances meet,
My ordinary day turns sweet.