Frank,
One would not guess
Behind the bulk and the bark
And the large muzzle
(that isn’t so full of teeth)
The kindness with which you treat others.

Frank,
Your clumsy leaps and bounds
Are joy and youth and sweet 
Beams of sunlight cascading over a weedless garden full of ripened fruit
And your shy, syrupy eyes
Are lakes of pure innocence.

Frank,
I cannot come any closer to God
Than when you meet my gaze,
And, wondering what the world is to you,
I feel your soft velvety ears
And the weight of your body as you lean against me.