Walking through a neighborhood, I made a "smiley" sighting:
A curvy, worn out patch of grass;
That "grinning" yard, looked quite inviting.
My first impression...pemature. For as I passed on by:
A yipping dog came tearing out;
To bite me, he did try.
When he reached, the long rope's end, which kept him in his yard:
He followed through with curving swings;
His property, he fought to guard.
His action must be common, the "smiling" path was worn:
That tiny, yipping "pendulum,"
Had left that patch, all torn.