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Sonnet Pets Poems | Sonnet Poems About Pets

These Sonnet Pets poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Pets. These are the best examples of Sonnet Pets poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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The Dog of my Life

Shakespearean Sonnet

I remember the day I picked you,
With your sweet little puppy dog eyes.
For my heart was searching for love too,
When I looked down and heard your soft cries.

Your brothers and sisters were running,
They were after a fallen clothes peg,
But there was a puppy so stunning 
Trying hard to get up on my leg.

Four years it has been since that moment
And I thank God daily for his gift
Each day you give me such enjoyment 
Your love has given my heart a lift.

Today I know as clear as can be,
I didn’t pick you; rather you picked me.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.26.2014
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton 
Contest: Pets
2nd


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The Nail Biter

He bites his nails beside me on the bed
so loudly!  This strange habit is most grating.
I’d like to throw a pillow at his head,
but he would just continue, not abating.

I’m used to just how vexing he can get,
like when he begs for food that I am eating.
When someone comes to call, he gets upset;
then settles down and gives a gleeful greeting -

Unless the visitor is someone small!
He sits and stares if I pick up a child
then panics if the infant starts to bawl.
I love my doggy though he gets so wild!

Although a naughty child himself is he,
how sweet and trusting is his love for me.


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OUR CAT NAMED 'POSHPAWS'

Poshpaws was our beloved pussy cat She would clean her fur when sat on the mat Loved to be stroked, we could tickle her tum Her purr was loud like the noise from a drum Large emerald eyes would sparkle and gleam Her coat so soft with a beautiful sheen She would lie in the sun from dusk till dawn Rouse from her dreams with a pussycat yawn Dad did not like cats - that’s what he would say But on his lap Poshpaws would always lay She’d follow my Dad all around the house Make no noise, be as quiet as a mouse She slipped away from us aged only ten Buried in a beautiful shady glen 11~23~14 Contest: Pets Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton ~awarded 2nd place~


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Kissed by Katy

Although two other felines enjoyed their lap time Atop them the dominating Katy would climb The lap she didn’t want; she sat right on my face Katy felt this was her right; she had claimed this space If I tried to watch TV, her paw closed my eyes If challenged, with a huffy hiss she would chastise At mealtime she’d growl, chasing other cats away How did I come to adopt this demanding stray At the Humane Society, I passed her cage She clawed my sleeve and my attention she engaged Smarter than most cats, Katy was queen of our house She’d just yawn if we were invaded by a mouse For twenty-two years, Katy always made me smile The morning she passed, I felt like I’d lost a child
*Written November 5, 2014, in honor of Katy Cat.


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Adorable QuiQui

Adorable QuiQui
A green-feathered, yellow head beauty, that’s my prized pet parakeet, QuiQui. Even when she’s often crabby and snappy, she succeeds in making me extremely happy.
QuiQui loves dipping and diving into her bird bath, and hanging from a perch in her cage, like an expert acrobat. She also enjoys shaking water from her wet wings, gazing impishly into her toy mirror wildly shrieking.
Relishing her seeds and red strawberry millet treats, nonchalantly she ignores my sweet endearments and tweets. But she shows off her long, elegant, tapered blue tail, Sitting silently and contentedly unloading quite a poop trail.
And even though QuiQui never utters a single word, I know she secretly loves me too, my little prima donna bird.
11-11-2014


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Cat

It is the laziest of all creatures, 
It could eat and eat filet all the day long. 
Investigative eyes is a feature, 
And it will sing to you its forlorn song. 

It will avoid you like the plague by day, 
Skulking, running, bounding, from room to room. 
By night it searches through the halls for its prey, 
The hunted will meet its impending doom. 

The whisper of whiskers against the door, 
Tip-toe, pitter-patter, sneakily creeps. 
All at once bounding across the floor, 
Whoosh goes the paw across the mouse hole deep.  

“Drat!” says the cat, missed the mark once again, 
Once more the mouse hunt will have to begin.


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Slow Death

He lay dying_ slowly did his life pass
Watching others as they moved about room
As his heart failed, fluid filled him enmass
More than his body could handle consume

Legs swollen so that look like muscle man
Stomach swollen sounds as ripe watermelon
Lived a good life years beyond most lifespan
Pain in eyes _ don't really need this athlon

God how can in life some have to suffer much
The depth of their suffering you have shown me
Through the death of this pet whose  so soft touch
Touched our hearts to depth in death _ made me see

Instant death_ here;  then gone_ suffering little
So sad_ long death slow torture overbattle_


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Bringing Home Delilah

As I was checking out the cats on view,
I saw just one who even seemed to care.
She put white paws up to the glass, this Blue
Calico with long, gray orange hair.

Although her nature mattered most to me,
I liked that she was small, with eyes of green.
And nestling in my arms, she proved to be
both gentle and uncommonly serene!

Inside our house, she didn't run or hide
like other cats that we'd brought home before.
She jumped onto the bed and lay beside
us both, then later found things to explore.

Delightful like her name was our new cat,
I couldn't have been happier for that!

For Ryan Jackson's "Animals on your mind... Poetry Contest"


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Riposte


His chicken vanished from the face of Earth
unhappy and distressed connected so
with sites of poetry where lost pets' dearth
transformed to versicle expression's flow.

Logorrhea of namby pamby lines
and balderdash of verbose gardyloo
bombarded him with rounds of porcupines
stampeded unctuous like rabid gnoo.

But on the other hand he met some birds
composers of refined and sightly verse,
with glinting souls and clever words,
their intellect's expressions wise and terse.

And when he searched of who to value most
received his chicken's metrical riposte.

© G.V. 09-14-2013 All rights reserved


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My Beloved Pet


I love my pet - ignore those who would scorn,
Question, my adoration proudly worn.
I can spill my guts freely without fear
Always here to listen yet will never sneer.

Where can you find this type of loyalty?
More than just my pet but like family.
He never does any tricks commanded,
Nor acts in ways to be remanded.

Always quiet, calm, always well behaved.
He never complains in bad weather braved.
Easy to care for, never a worry.
At times so proud my eyes teared and blurry.

Sleeps next to me lightly he is my rock!
Yes I repeat with pride he's my Pet Rock.

19~11~2014
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Pets 
 


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Pets

Pets


Little pup at my paternal uncle's house,
Moved from his mother's lap and chose mine,
Pure black, on forehead a white stripe,
Tears of love in his eyes, that I did wipe ,

Reached my home and added onto family,
Dear he soon became, grew up hastily,
Faithful, wagging his tail in affection,
Clever and alert, wit in perfection,

A burglar's alarm, awake at nights,
Sweet morning walks and evening fights,
Winters, summers, autumn, rains and fog,
With every season bloomed, Bruzo my dear dog !

Language of love unsaid, yet perfectly understood,
Pets are the best friends beyond any brotherhood !





Rewritten on 11/27/14 for Shadow Hamilton's 'Pets' contest
Revised version of my original poem 'Bruzo my dog'


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Mister Nibbles Ameri-Sonnet

<                      amidst grass carpet he plays
                        long ears bushy tail white paws
                        nibbles bulbs munches away
                        poor little thing had some flaws


                         hides hair braided and despaired
                         didn't stop this little guy
                         thought to self this wasn't fair
                         bowed head and started to cry


                         nectar is what he had sought
                         on this hopeful days journey
                         not to be trapped or be caught
                         or carted off on gurney



                         Mister Nibbles came to play
                         In garden's bedding today


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Queenie

A tiny bundle of fur a few weeks old
One little pup who missed siblings and whined
Many memories of you my life holds
A scar from the canned food on which you dined

Running and playing side by side those months
Until you were old enough to learn your job
Dad got my pet to herd the cows on paths
Not with the rich and famous to hobnob

When free we would walk down those dusty roads
Safe was the feeling when in your presence
Free from concern about the wood's heavy loads
Beside me each time truly a pleasance

Queenie so long ago your life ended
My awesome pet left memories splendid

Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest: Pets
Friday, November 28, 2014





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English Mastiff - A Love Story

Both of our baby girls wear a black mask.
They try listen to what my wife asks.
These gentle giants far out weigh my wife.
The two girls are a large part of her life.

Molly is the pleaser by my wife’s side.
She is always there looking up at her.
Shelby has been with us since she first cried.
A little stubborn but she’s the watcher.

For me they are a blessing I adore.
They slobber, pass gas, and they even snore.
These girls always get me off the ol' hook.
We love them for they give more than a look.

Without trying a dog will fill your heart.
A friend and bond until death do you part.

Edward J. Ebbs
Written for: Pets - Poetry Contest - (Struggling) Sonnet

Nov 23, 2014


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my dog

                                I have a feeling 
                         that my dog is so spoiled
                  that she doesnt like dog food anymore
           apperently she want's filet min yung and lobster 
              well this isint the surf and turf doggie cafe
               get your head outa your furry butt
                             and eat your alpo
                   


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Death of Bruce, My Friend

Death of Bruce, My Friend


Bruce, my puppy died so very , very long ago
 buried him in a grave deep beneath the snow
Vanished, the days of tramping wood and field
 no more would such joy his countenance yield

Looking back seeing more sweet joy than sad
 thank God and childhood for blessings we had
Remembering well the nights he slept in my bed
 often climbing up to lay beside my little head

Attempting to crush memories of his sad fate
 yet thinking of him often, so often as of late
A hero the time he attacked that poisonous snake
 getting snakebit instead for his master's sake

A friend, a love , no greater has a boy ever had
In dog Heaven he awaits and I am so very glad



note:

I had Bruce from age five years old until age 
eleven. Six wonderful years, blessed years and 
sweet years!
Even now at sixty not a week goes by that I don't 
think of him , his loyalty and his faithful love.
I wrote this about twenty years ago. Found it 
today in a scrap book , with no date attached but 
remember writing it one week before Christmas in 1994.
Found the Christmas card from a dear friend(now departed)
 right there with it...


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ALL THE LEAVES TURN FLAMING RED

October is the mellowest month
when all the leaves turn flaming red,
and squirrels munch on a fallen nut.
Notice how the days get shorter,
how the chill reminds of Holidays
that yesterday was a thought too far.
People stroll and enjoy the nice weather,
as they watch trees being stripped of their jewels,
but sad as Nature seems, fantasy can go far. 
I sit on a park bench as Lassie, the golden retriever, 
barks inviting me to hurl the ball as high as I can,
then runs like a tiger to catch it in the festive air.

She returns with the ball pinned within her strong teeth,
and as all the leaves turn flaming red, they fall on my feet.


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All cats...

who roam the dingy streets as common strays
or lie luxuriously within our laps--
fear not, for milk still flows beyond your days,
as do the silken cream and tuna-snaps.

Too long have dogs alone been known to rise;
tis time you too ascend to lofty gate:
oh being of nimble step and keen of eyes,
you are most qualified for such a fate!

So sleep; itself the problem shall amend,
and benediction will you soon receive.
To paradise you'll fly come tether's end,
or so I independently believe.

To such a notion should the world concur:
cats should in Heaven be allowed to purr!


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Four for two

Monster with Demon, Devil and Angel
Fourfold in friendship so spellingly causing
Reasons for living and giving of love
Small sensing sproutings of canine confusion
Gamboling ever for tender collusion
With larger companion traveling souls
The road that is traveled is bettered by having
These tiny companions to lower the hills
Smoothing the roadway by filling the potholes
With layers of free given love without frills
There is mischief asparkle in all of their antics
As even in sleeping  their trust is so real
Small dignities pacing  the roadway beside us
Reminding us ever with magic we feel