Maximus Maximillion
Maximus Maximillion, a tiny terrier sprite,
White and rusty, a whimsical sight.
Max, the moniker that warmly rings,
Center stage like a circus dog springs.
Mischief-maker, Maximus, the merry,
Too small under feet but too wild to carry
Tiny toes tippity-tap on the floor,
A terrier’s tale is a tail that wags evermore.
Tussling with toys, he jumps up in a twist,
Tripping through tulips, a terrier tryst.
Twirls and twitches, a tornado of glee,
Maximus, the mirthful, wild and free.
Max, the master of the midday nap,
In a cozy nook, on a cushioned lap.
Rustling in the rapture of a radiant day,
Maximum is his only level of play.
In the rustle of leaves, he races and romps,
Maximus, though Maximum, never stomps.
Radiant eyes and a rollicking spark,
A terrier’s spirit, leaves a lasting mark.


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