away the night and so begins my hunt
my eyes open, nose twitches and my ears
begin to listen for those words I've learnt
I follow their movements and hope to see
signs of promise, preparation, a blur
of something quickly tucked away for me
a glimpse of yellow or a whiff of fur
and just maybe, even a muffled squeak
this is it! they've each set down their tea cup
and, as it's wet out and the weather's bleak
they're bringing wellies and they're zipping up
and now, at last, we're standing in the hall
and yes! I smell a hidden tennis ball!
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