As the moon sang a lullaby
to a distant star
The creatures below to sleep did sink
Except for the owl, who didn't sleep a wink
" What time do you have" asked the owl
" It's a quarter to nine"
Said the tree with a scowl
" Thanks, I am going on my hunting spree" the owl replied
As he flew off into the night from the old oak tree
"Oh my, I'm running late"
exclaimed the field mouse,
As he looked at his watch
while hurrying to get to his house
It was then that the owl made his catch
as with his talons, the mouse he did snatch!
Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2012
Paula parrot is my name. I once was wild, but now I'm tame
A chatterbox who likes to talk!
Some news to share? Let's take a walk!
Now tell me what's the latest scoop?
Oh! Watch your step! There's Dodo poop!
When I fly around the zoo, I'll likely make a friend or two
Some call it weird, or quite absurd, to chatter with the other birds
and sometimes share a joke or two, with Ollie Ostrich, and Adolf Emu
I can't deny, I wouldn't lie, I look the Cuckoos in the eye
We shoot the breeze, and share some pie
and when I leave, with teary eyes, they flap their wings, and shout "Good Bye!"
I pass on by and say "G'day", to Hippity Hoppity Kangaroo
I greet Giraffe, we share a laugh, a "How are you??" to Mr. Gnu!
I chat while the Chimps, do acrobats, and say "Ell...o" to Elephants...
Poor Tiger's throat is very sore.......he's caught a bug, and cannot roar!
I offer honey for his grrrrrrrr.....so he can growl, just as before!!
For Penguins shivering on the ice...I gave them boots, and sage advice
(They are rather bashful....but very nice!)
I'll take a swim, with dolphin friends, and saddle up, my pal the Whale
He wants to know some shocking news, and promises he'll never tell.
Zack the Zebra, in black and white, pajamas worn, in fancy stripes
I tuck him in, a bed of straw, "Sleep well, my friend and "Nighty Night!"
It seems bizarre ....to talk to those, who live a life behind those loathesome bars...
I chat a lot, perhaps it's looney...but they have told me, "We are lonely"...
So, if you like to talk a lot....give strolling through the zoo a shot!!
For Contest sponsored by Just the Archaic Poet ..."Personalize an Animal" 12/31/13
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
I sing to the world as evening arrives,
my sweet dulcet voice calling.
When out of the blue a giant stops by.
Under the verdant green bush I hide
while around me I watch the leaves falling.
So awkwardly they bumble through
the giants on legs spindly and long.
Walking past dogwood and bending yew,
my hiding place in constant view,
he stops and looks, he hears my song.
Cup in hand he walks toward me.
My gentle voice I silence.
Looking through each bush and tree,
as leaves quiver in gentle breeze,
My mind in tranquil quiescence.
A hand extends through thicket dense
to grab me from the perch I've known.
His hesitation I can sense,
as voice I hear from distance says,
"James, leave the crickets alone."
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2015
When strangers see me they laugh
Thinking I have no class
But I tell the farmer they're here
Cause I'm smart and I have no fear
I'm the guardian most preferred
Over cattle, goat and sheep herds
I always announce all strangers
And alert of immediate danger
I'm loyal, gentle and kind
Jump higher than any equine
Stronger than many men put together
A nanny or surrogate, whatever?
Here comes my owner now
I'll pretend I'm as dumb as a cow
He serves breakfast but no demi tasse
"Good morning, you old jackass"
Then I grin and loudly bray
Cause hee haw, hee haw, hee halways talks to me that way
Feb 18 2016 by Daniel Turner
Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016
I lie here, naked and exposed, splayed out upon
an open plain, under the hot, African sun, still as stone
slowly decomposing. My life fluids have drained away.
I am a massive hulk of dried out skin and bones
my large trunk lies flaccid at my side, my great
ears are rotting at the edges. I smell of putrid waste.
Do I detect a presence in my midst? Do I hear a sudden
gasp? A muffled cry? Are your eyes widening, pupils
dilating in horror?
Do come and see my wretched state. For I was hunted for
pleasure, for mere sport, discarded like a worthless penny
shot down for the hell of it.
Why is man so careless? So callous? For we beasts are at
your mercy. You mourn for me today, but will you care
I lie here, naked and exposed, splayed out upon
an open grave.
Written on 4/8/2016
For Images That Make You Think Contest
Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2016
I do not fly but waddle far.
For fun I slide on my tummy.
And if I have my eye on a mate
I'll feed them fishes so yummy!
Singing a love song is common for me.
To attract a mate I'll croon.
And if I leave the colony sometime
I'll surely be back soon.
Under the water I really can't breathe.
But can hold my breath a short while.
I spend my time mostly at sea.
But when on shore I make humans smile.
You'll point at me and giggle out loud.
I know you think I'm cute!
But don't try to capture me I plead.
Just admire my black and white suit.
A little bit like you humans I am.
Sometimes I mate for life.
Yet other times I play the field.
Perhaps even cheat on my "wife"!
So here I go to dive and plunge
where the water is deep and cold.
Just some things you should know about me.
I'm amazing-if I may be so bold!
for Archaic Poet's animal personification contest
Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2013
I ramble and marvel on the alluring paradise I reside
Tall green pine trees spear to reach to the heavens gratified
A Few scattered pine that have lost the will to survive
Sounds of the wildlife the forest obscures and they thrive
The wondrous mountain range with tall timber surrounds me, enticing to explore
Lush green, brown grass and enchanting flowers in bloom I spoor
The crystal clear rivers and ponds stocked with a rainbow of fish in sight
The clear blue sky with scattered clouds and birds in flight
Through the high brush, I saunter enjoying my paradise, below
I catch sight of a couple, midway in a wallow in the meadow
Feasting on salal and brush
I rush to the underbrush
At a distance I hear the bugle of an old elk calling and gathering his harem
I wonder if I should challenge the old elk but his way up on the rim
By: Eve Roper
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015
This place is full of bigness
the dog is big, the masters foot is big
And I am small, a mouse, a house mouse
I scurry about in the dark
crumbs are beautiful things, I eat
But I feel small, a mouse, a house mouse
I am warm and dry, but afraid
I live my life afraid, of their bigness,
of the cat, of hunger, of being caught
The little girl smiled...
She said, a little darling, cutest thing!
Mama,, look a mouse..
I am not a thinker, simple me
Just a mouse, a house mouse....
Personify an Animal contest
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2013
("Those who have knowledge, don't predict. Those who predict, don't have knowledge.”)
I must confess that I am quite amazed
That my shadow has brought me
I was named after the Great King Philip
So it got me a name.
If you embrace me to predict
when the spring will arrive
after a long spell of winter,
It’s a lot of pressure to put on
a guy like me who’s so shy.
I know it so happened in 1886
when my ancestor came out of his hole
to see if it was the time to come out.
Some farmers saw him but I’m not sure
if that was for his shadow’s prediction.
I am not one of the gods to predict
What the supreme has in store.
I appreciate the farmers of
Mississippi and Arkansas observing
The day on 14th February, twelve days
Later as not to have any controversy.
I’m sure my fellow animals
Like moles, hornets and squirrels
Will join me on these hearsays.
If a mole digs its 2 ½ feet deep,
Expect severe weather;
If two feet deep, not so severe
But if one foot deep, a mild winter.
If hornets build their nests near the ground
Expect a cold and early winter.
If the squirrel’s tale in late summer was bushy
Expect a cold, cold winter.
I only wish the candles are blessed, lit
And borne in a procession to pray Jesus
Being the light of the day.
May you call this a fantasy
I don’t mind as I live in India
And have no idea what the winter is.
January 24, 2015
Form: Free verse (Personification)
Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2015
Now to the world of the amphibians
In search of my dear web foot friend
A native of all lands with countless fans
Croaks in tears and nears his dead end
Now to the fresh water and pond
In search of my web foot friend amidst the fog
To the rescue i come like the legendary bond
to save my web foot friend the frog
Copyright © Chukwuemeka Mbah | Year Posted 2013
Dressed in my shaggy brown coat
I stand nearly six feet
at my shoulders
and weigh almost a ton
My brethren and I
once roamed the prairies
in herds of millions
grazing on its grass
which fed and nourished us
for tens of thousands of years
Running at speeds of
over thirty five miles per hour
across the prairies
in herds that stretched
as far as the eye could see
our hooves created
a thunderous sound
that shook the earth
causing it to tremble
like an earthquake
When packs of wolves attacked us
we surrounded our calves
kept our heads down
flashed our horns
and charged them
to fight them off
At times though
we were not able
to save our young
our old and ill brethren
when they were separated
from the protection
of the herd
The redskins were
the only human beings
we knew at that time
Though they hunted us
with bows and arrows
to feed themselves
and to satisfy their desire
for shelter and other needs
they did not waste
any part of our bodies
They respected us
and we respected them
We lived in harmony
for thousands of years
It was the advent
of the whiteskins
that initiated our decimation
They brought in large
that could keep up with
and even outrun us
The redskins realized this
tamed those creatures
sat on their backs
and hunted us
using their bows and arrows
like they did before
They killed more of us
but again they took only
as much as they needed
and did not waste
any part of our bodies
so we continued to
co-exist in harmony
It was that long mysterious stick
that the whiteskins brought in
that triggered our demise
From a great distance
it made a loud noise
and something hit us
that we could not see
but it inflicted severe
pain and agony
Some of us fell to the ground
and died quickly
while others struggled
but were injured so badly
that they died soon after
We were helpless against
this long mysterious stick
We were slaughtered
in our millions
They left our dead bodies
to rot and decay
where we fell
Sometimes they took away our coats
Other times they cut out
our tongues only
and left the rest
of our dead bodies
to putrefy and decay
on the prairie grasslands
that we had trod on proudly
for thousands of years
This is my epitaph
for I just saw the glint
of the sunlight
on the long mysterious stick
heard its thunder
and felt something
go deep into my insides
as I fall to the ground
I am on way to meet
my proud ancestors
who once roamed
these lands in freedom as
Lords Of The Prairies
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013
The butterfly went to a party last night all through the evening. It was the drunken butterfly and he saw all different butterflies through the night at the party. Both of them were drunk in front of the butterfly that evening. He woke up the next morning and he didn't remember who gave him drinks. It was different butterflies passing for everyone at the party. His friend found out that there was another butterfly drunk that evening. After that night, one was over and he began to face it with. One of the drunk butterfly at that evening. When he went up to all the butterfly were drunk at the party. Then that night, he went home to get straight from that night all day. Then he looked back to the party to find out who gave him drinks that evening.
Copyright © Frances Roberts | Year Posted 2013
PRIMP and PREEN
Passersby’s halt, they fear to walk by, to fall to this feline
in her prime. No moggie is she who’s primped and preened
in contemplation she flaunts her flair. Motionless as art, her
body’s dreadful covered in copious layers of azure fur.
This she cat finds each passerby a meal, a most delectable prey.
Primped and preened, her snaking tail waving rhythmic.
Her trunk’s molded like a rounded goblet full of wine.
Her paws arrest, slender, like a maiden's finger fine.
Her chest full and firm, she posed with influential height.
Her translucent tabby orbs shutter, then focus to gaze
reflecting a light, shadowed by a panacea of unfolding lies;
twin spheres speak, solid, content in serenity and pride.
There's a bombshell shining in this cat's eyes.
~Inspired by: The Blue Cat by Pamela Colman Smith 1907~
***For Debbi Guzzi's: Ten Paintings, Ten Poems, ALMOST DONE
__Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo__
08:24; January 13, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2016
The Unusual Ballad of Lily and Pierre
Feline Lily strolled one day
and behold who did she see,
Pierre, the Tom cat of her dreams
under a cherry tree.
She gazed at him, he winked at her
from that day it was their plight,
they were destined for each other
it was true love at first sight
She admired his wiry long black hair
on his back a white stripe too,
but she had one little problem
she didn't know what to do.
In certain situations
at any time or given day,
he sprayed a putrid odor
that seemed to never go away.
She didn't know how to tell him
that he really stunk,
and he didn't know to tell her
that he actually was a skunk.
Lily couldn't bear to leave him
and so the story goes,
she chose to wear a clothespin
daily on her nose.
I guess the lesson learned here,
whatever flaws you think you've got,
true love can rise and overcome
you're a skunk or not.
Copyright © Liz Labadie-Reilly | Year Posted 2014
They are the hunters
With guns and cages
Walking in the wild
Chasing our lives.
We hold our hands
With a fear in our eyes
Afraid of death
Run for our lives.
We run in places
Where no one ever sees
Holding our breaths
Just to save our lives.
Why everyone disagrees?
We live in this place
To kill our lives.
Copyright © Lei Strauss | Year Posted 2015
I think my MOO MOJO has let me down
that HE bull, Morris, just grunts and frowns
he doesn't even glance around
when I pass by, I'm just another COW.
Those devilish twins, Dan and Dick
sneak out at night and play their tricks
while I try to sleep, they go COW DIP
and knock me down, they need a good WHIP.
And every morning, when Sally MILKS me
she pulls so hard, it nearly KILLS me
It's an UDDER shame, one day, you'll see
I'll KICK her good, when she ain't looking!
I'm in a baneful MOOD, I feel so alone
Just wandering along, I MOO and I MOAN
I chew my old CUD and aimlessly roam
Wish I weren't filled with these dang HORMONES!
Written on 2/19/2016
Contest finalized on 3/20/2016
For Back To The Barnyard contest
Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2016
Hi, this is Donkey !
an animal with no complain
either you love me or disdain
I am sad
but not mad
as you think of me
and you dont want to be
called by my name
for you its a shame !
how cruel is your approach
yet you will encroach
upon my world
to carry the loads
of your dirty clothes
this is the irony
of my agony
that I am born like this
wish I could be a fish
of your pond
but alas ! I am just an animal
with an ugly sound !
as I am not strong
so you will prolong
the insult on my community
cant i live with dignity?????????????????????????????
this is not a donkey's perpective but i relate myself with this animal too...sorry again!
Copyright © Red Fiery | Year Posted 2011
The animals know better than us. The rain has never poured so loudly in a key so soft.
To the front, the sailing of city buses and mini vans cruising across in this weather makes the water underneath their tires sound like the street is crying out for 5 more minutes of sleep. Up above, the trees are protecting a nest of baby blue jays before they get washed away by the silence of their mother not being there. But with sky blue young spirits, and small empty stomachs, they keep hope alive in the fact that even children know storms and struggles don’t last forever.
Below the trees, nature has found a name to call it’s own. From the hole dug by the little boy next door, a family of three foxes have named human nature sanctuary, and burrowed their problems into the sediment to rest for a while.
To the side of the hole, a flock of ducks are swimming in the water with eyes open wide enough to where you can see their loyalty to love one another rushes wild.
To the right of the pond, caged up in a man made blanket, and lost in his own mind, is the boy. From what he remembers, last night was like a train accident; A head on collision of two people he could’ve sworn he saw holding hands just the other day. He hears the sound of plates shattering in C-minor, and the chorus of words that his parents screamed in F-sharp, so he imprisoned himself in his own bed sheets, accompanied by the courageous corduroy bear who he swears keeps hearing whisper “everything will be okay.”
It’s raining outside, and the crescendos of screams have been silenced by it’s peaceful security.
The boy, sleeps soundly now. The rain has protected his ears, and guarded his heart from being washed away by all of his nightmares.
He doesn’t care whether he wakes up. The baby blue jay, the resourceful fox and the brave little duck are all he wants to keep dreaming about.
Maybe he’ll run away into the rain? Or maybe into the arms if his mother?, whom he prays he can still recognize. To the left of his bed, he picked up the blank page of his coloring book and a crayon, and became a life long poet in that moment that morning. Taking a deep breath in, and giving a soft breath out, his first sentence was
“The animals know better than us.”
Copyright © Spenser Jones | Year Posted 2012
He comes so faithfully when called,
our veterinary doctor friend,
to our dear family of cows;
upon his help, we do depend.
The birthing of our calves amaze
him more than ever, and it seems
so many of us cows need help
when labor turns into extremes.
The labor process on the farm
demands assistance with some births;
with calves too large or feet come first,
we cannot pass those hefty girths.
With doctor's hands or puller tool,
to help ease out the stuck fast calf,
it's hit or miss it's born alive;
the chances surely cut in half.
How sad it is, with long delays,
some little ones will meet their death;
at last, be pulled out on the hay,
but cannot raise a single breath.
But when it works, oh what a site!
Our mama cows, right there to tend
their little ones who know their moms;
on instant bonding we depend.
Throughout it all, we cows are brave
and seem to somehow bear the pain.
Sometimes we moo, but otherwise,
are stoic, calm, endure the strain.
How blessed we are to have a vet
who helps to ease our calving plight.
No matter what, he's always there
at crack of dawn or through the night.
Sandra M. Haight
Contest: Second Chance 2
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Contest: Back To The Barnyard
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016
Just Call Me Mr. Spy
I’m from an ancient world, and we have never met, and never will.
However, much like presently, in my day, people lived for the thrill.
I experienced that world’s greatest tragedy, and lived to tell the story.
I am not the bravest, smartest, or most beautiful; but I made history.
People of old loved and laughed, and also ate and drank to the fill.
They bought and sold, not worrying about who would pay the bill.
They fell in love and married; and separated, adulterated, and fornicated.
They detoured from their ancestors’ standards, and greatly deteriorated.
Yes, they were civilized sometimes, but also immoral and very violent.
It’s predicted that your world will be just like mine, before the Second Advent.
They were liberated, sophisticated, and also educated in their own way.
They were warned, but never bothered to change, until a deluge came one day.
There was an old man with a wife and three sons, who also had wives.
They worked hard and loved everybody, but also lived good and clean lives.
I know all these things because I was there, observing and raising my family.
That is, until the old man brought me and others into a big boat he built for his family.
You see, I was Noah’s raven, and was blessed to go on that world’s greatest trip.
And you can call me Mr. Spy, because I was the first one to leave the big ship.
03042016 PS Contest, A Tomb of Ancient Bloom, Justin Bordner
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016
Do you wake up well jungle juggernaut?
If the forest wakes up well, it's to me egal ;
if the forest doesn't wake up well, it's to me egal;
if the tusker has woken up well, what else?
You that breathe with dexterity,
You that walk with dexterity.
Your foot print; fortress for the rodents.
Do you wake up well Elephant?
Mind not their foolhardiness,
they that see you in distance and propose:
come let hunt him with our stick.
Is the tamer of forest not bigger than that we say
let's hunt him with our cudgels?
Bull may be tethered, buffallo may be;
the king is yet uncrowned
that can tether the jungle juggernaut.
Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode | Year Posted 2015
quatrains with personification/alliteration
Board fence entraps three Angus cows
who would much rather go
out and about to their content
than hear from freedom's crow.
Corralled within their space so small
constrained by her pride-filled squawk
no grass to graze, grounds for escape
so here they gaze and gawk.
"Of what does she have to complain?"
crow hears a lowly moo.
Indignant cry inspires this queen
to do what she can do.
She picks the pin which holds them in,
gives them the needed boost.
So free they run until the sun
invites them home to roost.
Queen Crow awaiting on her pole
accepts the "thank yous" on each face.
And when the cows have passed the gate,
she puts the pin in place.
3 March 2016
Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2016
I can hunt night and day
the most powerful owl
little animals are my prey
even smaller owl
You can see my tracks in snow, but you can not catch me
These tallons of mine are sharper than daggers
I protect my infants with valour
I am the emporia owl
I am KING
Copyright © Gabriel Sundman | Year Posted 2016
Where are you
Where are you
Can you let us know the time of your arrival
Dear Miracle Workers
Where are you
We, us, know you can't bother to help until you at least try
You know where we stay
off the coast of Australia
our home of Tasmania
Yes, we fight and bite
but it's how we survive
Can you honestly blame us
for the spread of cancer in our societies
A complex language with complex actions
could you really relate
Please don't leave us like this
Even though we're of different species
will you please do your best to save us from extinction
All we want is your
protection, promises, honesty
something, something more than this
more than we...
all we want is to be set free
free from the curse laid across our pride
across our teeth
We're not like you
we're a dying breed, a dying breed
stretching out for love
reaching out for sympathy
looking for hope towards the everchanging midnight skies
praying for actions from the
million colors of a million eyes
Please help us survive
Copyright © Russell Banks | Year Posted 2016
I struck out on my own around a year old
life was so full of fun, so many things with
which to play, a leaf scuttling by, a rustle
in the undergrowth. I was enthralled.
I stood on a road watching intently
a little mouse. A car shot past bowling
me over and slicing off half of my tail.
It stung like hell and dripped blood.
Finding a cool stream I placed my tail
within, oh the blessed relief I knew
I had been lucky, one life now done.
My next life also flashed by as
hunter became prey, I ran for
my life from a pack of hungry
wolves barely escaping their
razor sharp fangs and hot breath.
Fishing for salmon I ventured
in too deep and got swept away
tumbling through rapids, banging
into rocks lucky to be washed ashore.
Bedraggled I lie in the sun
I swallowed way more water
than I drink in two days.
Shivering as I dry off.
Maybe four is the charm
as now I am much wiser.
Oh no I followed my nose
to an enticing exciting smell.
It led me straight into a mire
churned up by rooting pigs
I was being sucked down
exhausted I finally lay still.
Well a miracle happened
the muddy slime released
its deathly grip and I was
able to slowly wriggle free.
What a state my fur was in
muddy slime all over me
only one thing to do and
that's take a hated bath.
As I rolled in the shallows
I felt a change in pressure
and ran for my life chased
by angry snapping jaws.
Piranhas I had disturbed
Nearly ripped to shreds
I slipped away to rest up.
Unfortunately as I drifted
off I started getting stung
I was under attack from
angry bees I was lying
right over their hive.
Fast as a streak I headed
yet again for the river
and dunked myself again
and again till they were gone.
Seven lives already used up
and I was still only three years.
A few years past uneventfully
I am getting the hang of things.
One dark stormy night
sheltering in a leafy tree.
It got hit by lightning
knocking me to the ground.
Fur still burning I looked
a real fright, a cartoon cat
with hair on end whilst all
I really wanted was a quiet life.
Well I have used up eight
of my nine. I now mainly
sleep my days away. The
urge of adventure quietly rests.
My day will come soon
now as age takes its toll.
I am stiff and nearly blind
so I lay down a final time.
Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2016