I have a cat
A real fat cat
My cat is all black
My black fat cat
It is a cat with a knack
A true fact about my cat
My fat black cat
She has a knack to catch a rat
My all black cat brought me the rat
This is why my cat is a fat black cat
So rats watch your back
From my cat with the knack
Or you will become a snack for my fat black cat
Copyright © colleen laforme | Year Posted 2006
Lounging licking leaping
Prancing pouncing peeking
Corners closets crouching
Tail twirling twitching
Sniffing sensing sneezing
Hissing huffing hunting
Pretty purring preening
Curiosity kitty killing
Nine long lives living
Copyright © Rick Zablocki | Year Posted 2013
My puppy sure loves to lick me
He thinks I’m a lollypop.
Every time I get home he attacks me
Then kisses me nonstop.
You’d think I was gone forever
When I just left the house for the mail,
He is right at the door when I get back
With a rapidly wiggling tail.
He wants to eat everything I do,
Mom says, that’s not good for a dog.
We want to keep him fit and healthy
So daily we go for a jog.
My toys are all tattered and ragged
My socks are his ultimate aim,
Doesn’t matter how much it upsets us
He thinks it’s all some kind of game.
I know he’s a bit of a stinker
That always wants to be fed.
But I sure am in love with my puppy,
Every night when we cuddle in bed.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
Sprawling over bedsheets
Crowding limited sleepspace with
Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2009
You’d think a dog named Lucky,
Would lead a decent life.
But Lucky had his troubles,
And they followed day and night.
One day Lucky ran away
In search of greener pastures.
Just to find a field ablaze,
Thus the start of his disasters.
Although Lucky didn’t die that day
And no limbs or parts were broken,
Lucky smelled of smoldered hair
And you’d swear he kept on smokin!
And Lucky liked to chase the cars,
Till the day he lost his nerve
When Lucky met a big ‘ol bus
That couldn’t stop or swerve.
I’m not sure just how it hit him
Or how he’s here today.
But he’s never walked straight since,
And one eye veers away.
My Lucky always clashed with cats
And was leery of their paws.
Until a “Tom” of forty pounds
Let Lucky feel his jaws.
Hair and fur balls filled the air
Like Cottonwoods a bloomin.
Poor ‘ol Lucky lost an ear,
And now looks twice as stupid.
I confess, I named him wrong
And why he stays, I’ll never know.
I guess that I’m the lucky one,
To have Lucky here at home.
Copyright © Tom Valles | Year Posted 2014
I've been shoved out in the back yard,
A bit ruff, don't you agree?
It's not that I've disgraced myself,
No,It's because SHE caught a flea!
Don't know what all the fuss is about,
I mean they don't bother me.
Any way I need the exercise,
It's a great way to have a good scratch.
Those crafty little blighters
They get right under my thatch.
I like to chase 'em out
To see how many I can catch.
I grabs 'em and bites 'em
And has my bit of fun.
When they see these gnashers,grrr,
You should see them try to hop and run.
Oh! there's one,oh! there's one,
Oh! there's another one.
He-llo!what's going on here then?
Aaarghh! that stuffs awful,smells really bad.
Oy, watch where you're spraying!
If you don't mind,I still want'a be a dad!
Sometimes these humans just don't care.
They drive me barking mad.
Howoooo, I'm fed up with all this palaver
I can't stand all this strife--.
Hang on-time to be 'mummies darling'.
Here comes his soppy wife.
The things you have to do to make them happy.
It really is a dog's life!
Palaver-fuss or bother
Copyright © SYLVIA Coulstock | Year Posted 2010
Sometimes I catch them easily,
The words I'm reaching for;
At other times watch helplessly
As they crash to the floor.
I try to reassemble but
They've landed in a jumble.
I grab too fast for floaters and
My chair and I both tumble.
Susie thinks it is hilarious
And joins into the fun.
Before she hears my "stop", she has
Already swallowed one.
I am truly very sorry
There are no poems from me.
You will know why when I tell you
My dog ate my poetry.
Won 3rd place
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2005
A dog! A panic in a pagoda!
Rex sneaked in with a can of cream soda,
he shook it up hard and then pulled the tab.
But Rex was too slow for their choc'late lab.
Cain: a maniac, the brown dog's head swelled,
confused by the fizz but a rat he had smelled.
He was a god's dog, ergo, a ogre -
mighty fine watchdog, well-trained at Kroger.
Schooled in their stockroom with all kinds of nuts
whose tricks won ribbons for all kinds of mutts.
Cain's radar kicked in, went straight for the can
and turned it on Rex who lost his game plan.
On the way out, he offered some Kleenex.
No one's the wiser, except maybe Rex.
Recording the facts, Cain writes in his log,
Was it a rat I saw? or Am I a dog?
A dog, a panic in a pagoda
Cain, a maniac
ergo, a orgre
Was it a rat I saw
Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2012
At the risk of being called “rabble-rouser,”
I think poor old Barky Von Schnauzer,
should practice his aim,
his master to maim,
in the back end of his very best trousers!
My hero I would call dear old Barky,
if he could just muster the stealth of a sharky,
and covertly steer,
right straight for the rear,
of that great big old bag of malarkey!
I think I should send Barky a big four leaf clover,
so his bad luck would finally be over,
he could retire his fame,
move away, change his name,
to Bowser maybe Lassie or Rover!
Obviously I have been driven completely insane by that stupid t.v. commercial!
Happy St. Paddy's Day!
Copyright © Shelly Berkeley | Year Posted 2007
First you got an alligator.
Next came a giraffe.
Lions ride your elevator,
bears hide in your bath.
run amok through all your rooms!
Soon, if you don't set them free - there will be no room for me!
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015
There once was a hunter named Frawley
Who lived in a shack, outside Raleigh.
His dog, funny but true,
Would only hunt honeydew.
The dog was a true melon collie.
Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2005
"Why," thought the cat,
"can I see through the glass,
but when I try to go through it,
it won't let me pass?"
"There are bugs out there,"
the cat thought to himself,
"yet to them, I'm as dull as
a book on a shelf!"
The cat shook his head,
"This is really too much!
There's two squirrels in the yard
and a bird in the brush."
"How much fun it would be,"
with a mew he announced,
"to hunt and to stalk and then
"Why, I'd shake them until
their necks were broke!
Maybe then," mused the cat,
"I'd be more than a joke."
"They'd be amazed by my prowess,"
he thought with a sigh,
"I'd torture them slowly and
they'd wonder why,"
"they never realized that
I was a threat,
while completely ignoring me
like I was their pet."
"I'd show them," he growled
as he laid on the sill,
"with them in my tummy,
I'd savor the kill."
"They'd show some respect,"
he thought with a yawn,
"I'd shown them who's king
of this yard and this lawn."
Head full of adventure,
he fell fast asleep,
safe in his house,
with plenty to eat.
Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2008
Princess is a Chihuahua
With a magical tail
It has secretly lured her
And has her under its spell
Now she wears a collar
Made of white plastic oh so fine
Now her tail walks behind her
And she has nearly lost her mind
She now has figured how
To twist and turn wow
She gets that magical lure
Poor tail how can it endure
Ah! A thought came to me
Turn the collar into a skirt
Now she can't her tail hurt
Cute Ballerina dog be
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011
It was a sultry summer eve
When what did my nostrils breathe?
Methane with a touch of green grass
Permeating across the room
Look to the right and look to the left
I swear that weaner giggled with a smile...
As I threw her out the door.
Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2010
I do not know?
If you are plagued with dragons in your basement,
And you have tried, without success, to drive them out.
If you need advice and dragon information,
That's what this short discourse is all about.
Now, you can't depend on pest exterminators,
Unless, perhaps, you call Saint George himself,
And pied pipers are of very little value,
As all dragons are notoriously tone deaf.
Since the riddance of house dragons is a hassle
That you might not be prepared to suffer through,
You might find compromise and coexistence
Is the sensiblest thing that you can do.
The rumor that all dragons are ferocious,
Is a rumor we could not substantiate.
As to whether they are prone to making mischief,
Its a subject that's still open to debate.
Some say dragons are quite friendly creatures.
Why, I've heard that they make gentle, loving pets,
And it's said that if one treats them with affection,
The great, scaly fellows never will forget.
But if you choose a dragon as a house pet,
Your fire insurance rates are sure to soar,
Unless you teach your dragon not to hiccup,
And to breathe into the furnace when he snores.
On the feeding of domesticated dragons
(We have saved this information till the end):
They feed mainly on bad dreams and mustang nightmares,
And a local politician now and then.
Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2005
Monkey see....monkey do...
Monkey took a poo poo...
Monkey pooed on my arm..
on my shirt...icky warm...
Monkey poo rings my alarm!
Monkey monkey...look at you!
Get this off...it's from your wah-zoo!!
Eep! eep! eep! said the monkey!
Then he squeezed his nose...
'cause it smelled funky!
Copyright © Lawrence Ingle | Year Posted 2008
"Christmas Dinner Fiasco"
on Christmas Eve, family gathered for "Feast of Seven Fishes"
an old Italian tradition while wrapping gifts with expectant wishes
hubby decided to play Chef Boyardee
complete with hat and apron, a fun sight to see
the kitty cats circled dinner table to pounce
licking their whiskers, smelling each tasty ounce.
pumpkin bread baking and homemade apple pie
whipped cream and hot fudge enjoyed with warm sigh
candied sweet potatoes with buttered rolls and biscuits
diet food hidden away like melba toast and triscuits
aromas so yummy the puppies were squealing
soon there was a stampede, sent the kitchen Chef reeling.
tree trimming time once dinner was finished
spirits running high with no chance to diminish
all seated to say grace before this marvelous meal
with colorful palette' and great appetite appeal
underneath the table came growling and gnashing
as felines and canines, over dripping crumbs, were clashing.
the Chef lost his temper and scooted pets to the yard
from inside the hacienda those onry pets were barred
but the doggie door was unlocked so began the invasion
pets on parade on a Christmas Eve occasion
the desserts lined the table like poetic pop art
creme puffs with rum and rice cakes a la carte'.
coffees were carried next to Christmas tree
tinsel and garland with musical lights mystery
but Cali the cat had his own idea of fun
'twas entangled in garland with paws in a bun
and Gabby had stolen a piece of creme puff
his black face was white as snowflake soft fluff.
the Danes sniffed out chew sticks from their stockings
as Raider and Golden ran round the tree in flocking
and sweet little Venus was as good as a dream
enjoying her peaches as she swirled in whipped cream
Christmas dinner fiasco provided laughs with love
as we sang "Deck the Halls' to the good Lord above.
*For Francine Robert's Christmas Dinner With Humor.
*Dec. 2, 2012.
Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart | Year Posted 2012
"Pets on Parade"
on Christmas Eve two kitty cats were sleeping
as Santa Claus climbed down the chimney creeping
Excalibur started to purr
Gabriel raised his black fur
poor Santa was startled and began weeping.
while Santa was chased by playful felines
trotting toward them a band of hungry canines
sweet Venus the white Wstie
was growing quite testy
for commotion interrupted her night sublime.
Thor and Thunder twin midnight blue great danes
frolicked in fun as Santa reached for red candy canes
they took giant licks
opened Santa's bag of tricks
as Raider the Shepherd smeared frosty windowpanes.
pretty pets on parade on Christmas Eve
had a jolly good time you best believe
sharing cookies and milk
with the Moon smooth as silk
and Santa was so happy to leave.
*For SKAT'S Calling All Pet Poems ..
Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart | Year Posted 2012
Piddle Eee Dee
Dribble, Dribble, breakage, and Piddle
A pox on that little dog!
Ankle biter, obnoxious barker…
Wish he’d just shut up!
Chased him around all day long
But he still got my sofa again!
I wonder if my Dear Old Mother-in-Law
Could survive just one day without him!
Perhaps I should now get out the broom
A week of destroying stuff, is just too much!
So I used the broom to scoot him out the door.
Then he proceeded to dig my flowers up!
From under the fence he made an escape
I chased him for an hour and a half!
Then my Mother-in-Law came back home
And picked her precious up!!!!
Such love and warmth I've never seen… Darn…
Wouldn't that be my luck! So I’m back to…
Dribble, Dribble, breakage, and Piddle
A pox on that little dog!
Ankle biter, obnoxious barker…
Wish he’d just shut up!
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014
In a field I saw a goat
Eating grass that day
I felt so sorry for him
And thought he’d like to play
And here I thought he was
So sad to be that way
I thought he needed attention
So I planned to see him that day
But what a fool was I you see
I really didn’t click
Why would he be all alone?
In a field so green and thick
So I squeezed through the fence
And straight into the grass
He didn’t seem to flinch
Or look as I walked past
But then I saw his eye
And saw his chewing cease
He didn’t look so happy
And lost that look of peace
There I was standing
In this field alone
A goat looking angry
And me so far from home
So I started running
And there began the chase
Through the field of flowers
Running with no grace
Stumbling and stamping
While he kicked behind
Scared that I would be beat up
And I would not be fine
And so I jumped the fence
And got safely out
While he chewed my jumper
He had in his mouth
And looking at that goat now
I can clearly see
Why there was a fence
Between him and me
Copyright © Nadine Hof | Year Posted 2007
We bought a cow at the state fair
and loaded her on the truck
to take her home, but halfway there
we had a stroke of good luck.
We hit a rock, and from the crash
she bounced away down the hill,
she mooed and made an awful splash
in the stream beside the mill.
The water was still awful cold,
the cow already freezing…
resisting as we roped and pulled
her breathing turned to sneezing.
My father said this won’t end well,
he couldn’t have been more wrong.
He thought the cow, we ought to sell
but changed his mind before long.
We took her home, our shook up cow,
unloaded her in the barn.
We thought we’d let her sleep for now
then see to her in the morn’.
The next day, just around sunrise,
the cow already awake.
I milked, and to my great surprise,
I got a frozen milkshake!
Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015
1221 Boiling Weather Drive
First customer gets a free beehive
With purchase ten bones or more
Food, drinks, desserts galore
Porcelain hitchhiker needs a ride
Copyright © Sharon Morken | Year Posted 2012
My son and his family drove down from the big city,
out to the countryside with open fields and steams.
They brought their standard golden poodle along,
a curly-haired fellow, name of Timmy.
Timmy had never seen a cat;
not even a mole or a furry rat.
Visiting country kin, he was checking things out.
Everything went fine that very first day.
Cats went about paying him no mind.
He walked about just passing time.
On that second day there was a big mistake.
Being a city dog with more worldy ways,
to add pleasure to his hum-drum days,
he thought it time to befriend these country kin.
The cats had never seen a dog this small,
only those on stilts, big, long and tall,
like Pyrenees, big wide mouths and teeth to match.
With barking big dogs on the scene,
up a tree they squirreled, never to be seen.
But this golden-haired fellow, with city clout--
they’d give him benefit of instinctive doubt.
Mama cat was even so bold
to sniff this city slicker right on the nose.
Sizing him up all the while, a friendly rat, she surmised,
a might bigger than some she had seen,
playing cat and mouse, yet acting so coy;
that is, until that overgrown golden-haired rat
walked up to Mama’s black baby boy.
Mama’s two other sons, another black and a blue,
began to gather nearer this city dweller, too.
Timmy politely extended his nose.
black son cat extended his razor-sharp claws,
with a bristled tail and fierce hissing jaws.
Timmy let out with a painful yelp,
as Mama cat called all boys in for help.
Cats surrounded and gave chase to the dog,
life-fearing circles around the cedar tree he’d log;
four hissing cats hot on his tail,
poor Timmy yelping in a desperate wail.
The master of Timmy gave rescue,
but Mama cat and her three grown sons,
strutting in pride, putting a dog on the run.
Written by: Carolyn Henderson
For Constance LaFrance's Cat Poem Contest
Won 9th Place
Copyright © Carolyn Henderson | Year Posted 2010
< cakes and sausages on hot griddle
uncle Leroy's dam dog just piddled
slipped ~ slide across floor
grabbed shotgun by front door
now dam ole dog just plays an fiddle
bow bow bow bow bow bow bow bow ~ wow
ow ow ow ow ow ow ow bow ~ ow
with tail between own ~ legs
now dog sings ~ and ~ brags
about cousin's daisies's bad bow ~ pows
Entry For John Freeman's
Slapstick Limerick Contest
Poor Ole Dog LOL
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2011
Two kittens sleep
aside as I write purring
each in a moccasin
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
It all started when Mr. Pie was a little bugger,
Just a wisp of fluff in the palm of your hand.
"Oh, isn't mama's little man the most handsomest EVER?!"
Not a day has gone by when he has argued that point!
"Be careful with all that encouragement" I prophetically warned,
"It may go straight to his head!!"....and what a head it became!!
Grey, dignified, regal....a lions mane with white marbling.
2 golden eyes piercing you with that casually bored stare one may give to one's shoes.
Every morning at 8 am and every night at 10 pm he demonstrates his knowledge of time.
Head-butting the door and SCREAMING the words "MOM!!!
MAAAWWWMMMM!!......NOW???!!???.........MOM??? NOWWWWW??" (for real!!)
Needless to say, he's got us trained pretty well,
But we're still working on house-breaking me!!!!!
He still has yet to teach us PROPER portion control,
And I get the impression I'm not so popular when I give less than expected.
Maybe it's the "Death-threat" stare, or maybe the Kitty Log in my slippers, I don't know!
All I can tell you is don't EVER make the mistake of addressing him as a "cat"
Or you may come to know the justice of King Pie, The Terrible........just a warning!!
Copyright © Jim David | Year Posted 2010
In loving memory of Jones,
The best duck I've known.
My pet and friend since I was four.
For a bird, he was dear;
I wish he was here
So that he and I could do more.
Copyright © Tara Andre | Year Posted 2013
She’s out there chasing a cricket
Through bush, through shrub & through thicket
Together they hop
But when she gets it, she just wants to lick it!
A cat whose vet took his eye
Just cannot quite understand why
His eye’s been enucleated,
3-D vision reduciated,
So now, he keeps an eye out for an eye
Ya gotta keep limericks loose
Think green eggs, or perhaps Dr. Seuss
They’re structured, it’s true,
But they’re also a zoo
Whose tenants are all on the loose!
I frolic in fountains of words
Overflowing with serious absurds
Each poem I write
Wakes up and takes flight
Joining angels and faeries and birds
You ask that we write a good limerick
How to do so, I haven’t a glimmerick
So I struggle and frown
Teaching poems to clown
So a smile on your lips will be shimmerick
A cat with a mouth full of mouse
Brought her feast right into my house
She played with her food
Who was not in the mood
To be a banquet of mouse in the house
The nightmares that shadow my sleep
Stampede the proverbial sheep
Right out of my mind
When I try to unwind
I find my appointment with sleep hard to keep
In her search for original truth
She met people unsavory and couth
She knitted and purled
But only unfurled
Yarns told by new age and old youth
Cat, suddenly pink,
Drinks her water from out of the sink
She looks so absurd
Since she’s been de-furred
I really don’t know what to think!
If one and one is two and two is four,
And there’s only two ways to go through a door,
Then, is earth up or down?
And, where is down town?
These are questions we need to explore!
A was that is an is
Tried to mind my biz
But I sent it packing,
Its presence was lacking
And I don’t have time for such shiz!
A couple who lived in Los Lunas
Loved the wide desert sky’s crystal blueness
They’d stare at the air,
Over here, over there
And rejoice at the feeling of newness
A cat with a very fat gut
Found it easier to walk on his butt
He’d drag it around
Across carpet and ground
And use it to slam the doors shut
Said the Missus to her dear Mr. Otter,
“There’s something I think that you oughta
Do before we get old
To protect us from cold –
You oughta make the hot water hotter!”
The ghosts who live up in my attic
Make noises that sound much like static
I’ve tried to send them away,
But they’re here to stay,
Those staticky ghosts in my attic
Copyright © Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson | Year Posted 2007
Buster ,Sparkle ,Newbie ,Speedy
and then there’s Pixie our smallest kitty,
One ,two ,three and four and five,
they‘re so frisky, so alive.
Sparkle is my number one,
14 years old and so much fun.
Purrs and snuggles on my shoulder,
she ‘s getting slow and somewhat older.
She meows for water from the sink,
I turn it on, for her to drink.
Speedy is my number two,
proud and handsome, I tell you!
He prances like a little pony,
And you know what? That’s no baloney .
He guards the others from above,
and sometimes gives a little shove.
Newbie is my number three,
chubby, plump, as one can be.
Always cleaning, always licking,
he tries to run but his paws keep sticking.
He keeps on searching for a hand,
to scratch under his collar band.
Buster is my number four,
always eating, more and more.
Loves to snack on lots of munchies,
tender vittles and some crunchies.
Begging, pleating, day and nights.
“:Give me crunchies, or I’ll bite”!
Pixie is my number 5,
She jumps, rolls over, takes a dive.
Up my back, onto my shoulder,
hoping I would grab and hold her.
Then she jumps to catch a fly,
She’s four months old, my sweetie pie.
Buster, Sparkle, Newbie, Speedy,
and there’s Pixie our smallest kitty.
Five, four, three and two and one,
I love my kitty cats, they’re so much fun.
Copyright © suzanne Hofbauer | Year Posted 2008
Once came along a groundhog named Phil
Looked for shadow in winters chill
Even top hat and coat
Didn't stop whining's gloat
Stuck six more weeks paying heating bill
Katherine Stella 2/4/12
February Funny Bone Contest
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2012