he tried creating music
but the populace did plead
"you've just produced cacophony
which makes our poor ears bleed"
so he dismissed the masses
and made music for his hounds
beyond the range of human ears
in higher wave length sounds
he found his dogs just ate it up
as if it were fine chow
he realized his talents laid
in other realms somehow
he authored playful melodies
of felines in full flight
and lunar based adventures
on a hot september night
the babble of young puppies
and the pleasure of a stroll
the comfort of a blanket
and a lovingly filled bowl
the stroking from a master
that attended to their needs
who always would forgive them
for their crimeless naughty deeds
and he would put on benefits
at all the local pounds
becalming all the troubled souls
with his assuaging sounds
alas, we'll never hear them
for they are not ours to clutch
but the canines are enchanted
for to them, they mean so much
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