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Spring Dog Poems | Spring Poems About Dog

These Spring Dog poems are examples of Spring poems about Dog. These are the best examples of Spring Dog poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Blank verse | |

Changes II puppy

the cloud of fur settles
on the moulting dog
the couch
the carpet

the seasons are changing
as evidenced everywhere
the lounge
the vacuum cleaner

moulting dog’s tail wags
he just wants to have fun
to run
to jump

he’s oblivious of the sunset
that you see behind him
coloured clouds
coloured sky

he’s oblivious to the promise
of coming summer days
their warmth
their length

the extra time spent outside
tending to the garden
the holes 
the bones

peaceful evenings on the deck
listening to him bark
at neighbours
at cats

but he only wants to play
and who could deny his
puppy eyes
puppy wishes?

scott thirtyseven
my favourite dog poem, for "a favorite poem of yours" competition

Details | Verse | |


An empty barn was the home of a dog;
outside buzzing bees attacked a tiny cat...
joyful was the song of a parched bird.

An hour ago, happy was the warbling bird;
no rascals bothered the skinny, smelly cat...
they didn't get close to the hungry dog.

Rain came and it worried the shivering cat;
spring showers were the joy of the bird...
he could have been the prey of the dog.

Sunshine returned: the dog barked, the cat ran and the bird fled.

Details | Rhyme | |


Folks in rural Pennsylvania think that Punxsutawney Phil
is, by all means, that happy and friendly groundhog
that predicts the beginning of spring on a forest log;   
he's very smart and looks friendly when he wags his tail.

If his prognistication is right everybody applauds,
and awaits the arrival of the harmonious season;
what if he refuses to comply...will there be lauds,
or at least, plenty of food on his plate not too lean?

It's the annual rite of wishful anticipation, almost an augural
pretense that the happy season will be at their doors to spread harmony, 
but if Punxsutaweny Phil won't predict anything and wants to crawl
back into his warm den, there'll be a longer wait 'till he breaks his lethargy.  

Copyright ( c ) 20015 by Andrew Crisci