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Long Pets Poems | Long Pets Poetry

Long Pets Poems. Below are the most popular long Pets by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pets poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by Kim van Breda | Details |

OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21

OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21

ON 1ST JULY 1990~ THE ANGELS DID SOMETHING ALMIGHTY
FROM HEAVEN THEY SENT US OUR LIFE-LONG DESIRE-A PRECIOUS DAUGHTER TO LOVE AND ADMIRE.
TRUE TO YOUR NATURE YOU ARRIVED WITHOUT FUSS OR PAIN--THE FIRST TIME OUR EYES MET WE KNEW OUR LIVES WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME

AS A BABY AND TODDLER YOU MADE US SO PROUD
YOUR VERY LONG HAIR, GREEN EYES AND SMILE-
ALL THOSE GOOD LOOKS MADE YOU STAND OUT IN A CROWD
YOU STARTED TALKING EARLY WITH MANY VOICEPRINTS 
YOUR CHARM AND GOOD LOOKS HAVE NOT STOPPED SINCE
YOU LOVED YOUR DOLLS AND PRAMS-- DREAMT OF BEING A “SINGER”
 AND VERY QUICKLY LEARNED HOW TO WRAP YOUR DAD AROUND YOUR LITTLE FINGER
YOUR BIG BROTHER DEVON--BEST FRIEND AND PROTECTER 
MOST OF THE TIME YOU GOT ON PERFECTLY TOGETHER

FROM AN EARLY AGE YOU SHOWED YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING
AGE TWO AND A HALF YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING
TO SWIM UNDER WATER AND DO MANY LENGTHS
THIS WAS CLEARLY ONE OF YOUR SPORTING STRENGTHS
AT AGE THREE YOU COULD BARELY WAIT TO START PLAYSCHOOL
“MISS INDEPENDENCE”, WAS YOUR GENERAL RULE
THE SLIDE AND JUNGLE GYM WERE YOUR FAVOURITE SPOTS
 AND TO OUR HORROR YOU WOULD CLIMB RIGHT TO THE TOP!
AT AROUND THIS TIME, YOUR FIRST BOYFRIEND YOU MET-
 HE LIVED NEXT DOOR, AND HIS NAME WAS BRETT

SOON IT WAS TIME FOR  PRE-SCHOOL
YOU LOVED YOUR TEACHER--YOUR NEW FRIENDS WERE COOL
‘SPRING BONNETS’ AND THE END OF YEAR SCHOOL PLAYS
THE TEDDY BEAR CLASS GAVE YOU SOME REAL SPECIAL DAYS
NEXT WAS ‘BIG SCHOOL’ AND YOUR FIRST CLASS
WE WERE SERIOUSLY ANXIOUS BUT FOR YOU JUST ANOTHER ‘MISS INDEPENDENCE’ TASK
LETTERLAND, MATHS AND LEARNING TO READ
YOU EXCELLED AT ALL THAT WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED
YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS CONTINUED THROUGH GRADES 2, 3 AND FOUR
YOUR PLACE IN THE SWIMMING TEAM HELPED YOUR SCHOOL WIN MORE

OUR MOVE TO AUSTRALIA… SAD FAREWELLS TO YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR PETS 
BUT, GREAT EXCITEMENT YOU FELT AT ADVENTURES TO BE MET
A NEW SCHOOL--“METHODIST LADIES COLLEGE”
NEW FRIENDS--JUMPING A GRADE-- MET WITH SUCH POSITIVE COURAGE
YOU MADE US SO PROUD IN THE WAY YOU ADAPTED
MRS. WILLIAMSON SAID YOU WERE THEIR NEW CLASS ‘ASSETT’
.
THE ‘MR BEE’ SPELLING AWARD AND MANY MERITS LATER 
WE ALL GOT HOMESICK-- BUT YOUR POSITIVE NATURE DID NOT WAVER
THE DECISION WE MADE TO RETURN TO CAPE TOWN 
CAUSED YOU HEARTBROCKEN TEARS AND A PERMANENT FROWN
ONCE AGAIN A SAD FAREWELL TO YOUR NEW FOUND FRIENDS 
RETURNING TO S.A. FOR OLD ONES TO MAKE AMMENDS

IT WASN’T VERY LONG THAT YOU PICKED UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT ALL
 ADDED TO YOUR TALENTS WERE NOW TEAM HOCKEY AND NETBALL

AS YOU APPROACHED THE FIRST OF YOUR TEEN YEARS
WITH YOUR LOOKS AND CHARM, INEVITABLY THE BOYFRIENDS WOULD APPEAR
SHOPPING, MOVIES AND MANY PARTY SLEEP-OVERS
CHOOSING TRUE FRIENDS AND DUMPING THE LOSERS
DANCE SHOWS AND DANCING EXAMS… YOU EXCELLED AT HIP- HOP
 FUN AND OF COURSE THE DESIRE TO SHOP

THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL-- THE FINAL ASSEMBLY—AWARDS
TROPHIES FOR SPORTSMANSHIP AND YOUR S.R.C. PRIZE GOT MANY APPLAUDS
SAD FEELINGS AT LEAVING YOUR OLD SCHOOL BEHIND 
EXCITEMENT AT STARTING HIGH SCHOOL WOULD SOON COME TO MIND
NO PROBLEM TO YOU, IT WAS ALL JUST A BREEZE 
AS YEAR BY YEAR YOU CONTINUED TO ACHIEVE
SWIMMING AND ‘A’ TEAM HOCKY MATCHES ON THE ASTRO TURF 
YOU EVEN STARTED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF
FRIDAY AFTERNOON CHRISTIAN MEETINGS AND EVENING CHURCH YOUTH
WE WERE SO HAPPY YOU FOUND GOD AND HIS TRUTH

THE REST OF HIGH SCHOOL PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE WHILE 
YOUR LIST OF ACHIEVEMENTS REMAINED EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH
YOUR ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS WERE ASTOUNDING
COPING WITH TOUGH SUBJECTS LIKE MATHS, SCIENCE AND ACCOUNTING
IN HOCKEY AND SWIMMING YOU MADE THE TOP TEAMS
NO SURPRISE AT ALL THAT SWIMMING COACHES MOVED IN ON THE SCENE.

THEY CULTIVATED YOUR TALENTS FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH
EVERY YOUR NIGHT YOUR PASSION SAW YOU DOING MANY LENGTHS
WEEKENDS OF GALA’S AND NATIONAL SWIMMING
S.A.SHORT COURSE, YOUR P.B’S, AND FAIR SHARE OF WINNING
TOGETHER WE CELEBRATED YOUR PLACE IN   W.P. SCHOOL CHAMPS THAT YEAR 
SO PROUD OF OUR BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER ALWAYS AHEAD OF HER PEERS 
.
FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY YOU BECAME SO INDEPENDENT
 STARTING YOUR STUDIES AS A B.Sc. STUDENT
IT WAS ALSO THE YEAR YOU LEARNED TO DRIVE
GOT YOUR LICENSE—DAD SPOILT YOU—NEW CAR—RESPLENDENT


YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN THE LORD STILL REMAINS FIRM
AS YOU WALK AND GROW SPIRITUALLY DAILY WITH HIM

SO MUCH HAS CHANGED, AND YET SOME THINGS REMAIN
YOU BEAUTY AND TALENTS SO EASILY MAINTAINED
YOUR  LOVE OF SWIMMING AND OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN WATER
YOU KNOW WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR NO. 1 SUPPORTERS
AND NOW YOU ARE 21, SWEETHEART 
YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD OF YOU-- TODAY IS JUST THE START
IT SEEMS LIKE JUST YESTERDAY THAT YOU WERE BORN—
OUR DAUGHTER~LOVES BRIGHT SHINING LIGHT~ WE ADORE
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED IN EVERY WAY 
WISHING YOU GOD’S RICHEST BLESSINGS ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY
HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY GIRL

TO HAVE YOU AS A DAUGHTER HAS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE
-YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE OUR MOST BEAUTIFUL TREASURE-

(FOOTNOTE: OUR DAUGHTER WILL BE 23 THIS YEAR, HAS COMPLETED HER BSc. AND HONOURS DEGREE’S IN PHYSIOLOGY AND GENETICS AND NOW DOING HER MASTERS DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE. SHE IS ALSO A PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE—DOING SWIMMING, CYCLING AND RUNNING AS ONE DISCLIPLINE)


Long poem by Bob Quigley | Details |

Walter

He stood and aimlessly watched the parade of patrons and volunteers that wandered daily past his kennel.  All so familiar, so ordinary.  Just like every other day he mused.  Nothing new.  Nothing special.

Moving to the small crumpled blanket near the back of his cage, he turned several times and finally curled up, head on his paws, positioned so that he could watch the activity around him.  But in reality, he was bored.  It had been a long time since he had met each morning with anticipation.  Too many days.   Too much disappointment.  He would leave all that barking and racing to the front of  their cage to the younger pups who hadn’t figured out yet that the cute ones went first.  It didn’t really make any difference what you did to attract attention if you weren’t young or cute, or both.

Too much time had gone by to participate in the charade.  In reality, Walter had seen a lot of people that he would rather not spend a lot of time with.  You know the type.  Kind of hyper, bouncing from stray to stray, looking for a perfect dog.  Kids poking their fingers  through the kennel screen or banging on it.  Some even making barking sounds.  He didn’t need any of that and was glad when they were gone.

Walter was very picky.  Set in his ways after so many years.  He had had it good for  a long time.  An only dog in a household of two people that let him be himself.  No tricks. No stunts.  Just long naps and daily walks.  A yard to himself to reflect on what was for dinner.  He had been fond of his doggy bed in their bedroom.  Each night he would help his owner walk through the house turning off the lights and checking the doors before they climbed the stairs together.  And there was always one last good night pat before settling down.

But those days were gone now.  First one had become ill and went to the hospital and never came back.  The other one changed overnight, spending long days, sitting mostly.  The walks became less frequent.  Walter did what he could.   He could see it in their eyes that they were hurting from their loss. He would make a point of laying his head in their lap, trying to let them know that he missed them too.  At times like this, he instinctively knew that although it remained unsaid, they only had each other.

He remembers well the day that his owner snapped a leash on him and said, “well Walter, I’m afraid we have to say goodbye.  I have to go to a place where they won’t let me keep you, so I am going to have to let you go.”  Walter could see the tears in his eyes.  He knew it would do him no good to whine or resist.  It was obvious there were no alternatives.  And besides, it would just make it harder on his owner.  But he was going to miss him.  It was not going to be easy to adjust.

But adjust he did.   He had been here a long time now and had seen countless pups and dogs  trot past his cage with light hearts and  new owners, heading off with new found hopes and expectations.  But it soon became obvious that there weren’t a lot of people that wanted an old yellow hound.  Everyone wanted the young ones.  So here he lay, dozing a bit, but still keeping an eye on those walking by, many giving him but a glance before moving on.

He heard them before the saw them.  ”Honey” the voice said.  ”That looks like Walter, old Mr. Whitney’s dog.”  Walters ears perked up a little.  ”Do I know them” he thought.  ”They seem to know me”.  I’d better go take a closer look” and with that, he stood and slowly ambled toward his kennel gate, giving a cautious wag of his tail.

“It is him” the man said.  ”Walter, how you doing boy?  Do you remember me?”

And upon closer inspection, Walter did remember him.  He used to live right across the street.  He would see him in his yard and if Walter were to ramble over, he usually had a dog treat in his pocket.  With the recognition, Walter gave a little stronger wag and moved toward the fingers extended through the fencing.  It was good to see an old friend.

“What do you say hon” the man said.  ”How would you feel about bringing Walter home with us?”

Walter looked at the woman and saw her nod in agreement.  ”You wait here and I’ll go find a volunteer.”

The man bent down and said “What do you think Walter?  Would you like to go home with us?”

Actually, Walter decided, he could think of nothing he would like more.  A chance to go back to the old neighborhood with people he already knew.  What was there not to like.

Soon the woman returned and the gate opened.  A leash was snapped on Walter and together they proceeded past the rows of dogs and puppies, all vying for their attention.  Walter couldn't help but stand a little straighter, stepping a little more lightly, showing off.  ”This is what going home looks like guys.” he thought.  ”Good luck and goodbye”.

As they neared the car the man said “I can’t believe we found you Walter.  There is someone I am going to take you to see.  I can’t wait to see the expression on his face when you walk in his room>”

Walter, of course, knew exactly who he was talking about.  And he couldn't wait to see the expression on his face either.


Long poem by John Posey | Details |

Tige

(Circa 1910) Grandpa had a bulldog whose name was Tige. They were close – as close as honey and bees. If Grandpa felt a cold comin’ on – Well Ol’ Tige was the one who would sneeze Grandpa was noted for his wealth and generosity. His love for me was demonstrated when he paid my college fees. The love he held for Tige was almost the same for me. And ol’ Tige was always with Grandpa wherever he might be. College life was different then, separation was the norm. And years at Alma Mater meant years far from the farm. Students have it difficult and allowances soon shrink So, short of money there, I soon began to think. Grandpa, bless his giving heart, quickly came to mind That bulldog owned his generous heart – if somehow I could find Some way to convince my grandpa to increase the money sent -- I came upon a devious plan – and this is how it went. I wrote and told my grandpa, “There’s things you ought to know. The things they’re doin’ here at school will set your heart aglow.” “They’re takin’ all these sorts of dogs – it came as quite a shock Grandpa, you won’t believe me, they’re teachin’ dogs to talk.” Now grandpa loved ol’ Tige so much it didn’t take him long To ask how much would it take to send ol’ Tige along? Well, when I gave a figure, Grandpa was satisfied If this crazy scheme was figured out, there’s no place I could hide. I kept feeding grandpa all sorts of good reports How Tige was a star pupil and mascot of all sports Two years passed and soon there came the time to take Tige home Grandpa was so excited -- Tige was never more to roam. Grandpa came runnin’ when I stepped down off the train. His eager eyes were searching for what he’d never see again. “Where’s ol’ Tige?” he asked, as we began to walk. “He’s not comin’.” I replied, “C’mon we need to talk.” This morning I was shaving in the bathroom by the sink And Tige was justa talkin’ when he looked at me and winked. “Ya know’ he said, “I’ll be so glad to be back home at last.” There are some things I’ve thought about that went on in the past.” “I was standin’ at the mirror with my razor in my hand Ol’ Tige was talkin’ ‘bout some things he couldn’t understand. I could not believe the lies he told – things he’d seen first hand Like the times he saw you wrestlin’ with that female hired hand.” His words just lit a fire with the pictures that he painted I almost couldn’t help myself – Grandpa, I nearly fainted. It seems that I lost it some and when I finally woke, I’d grabbed him by the backa his neck and cut his lyin’ throat. I know grandpa was shaken, I saw it in his eyes. A look of consternation he could not disguise He seemed to be relieved, as he looked at me and said, “Now, Son, I really need to know, are you sure ol’ Tige is dead?” Years have hidden the truth of this deception that I wrought. I’m the one who wove deceptive tales that everybody bought. But when the truth is told at last and no more lies are found You’ll gladly find an ending that surely will astound. Grandpa? -- He now lives with Jesus, and me? -- I’m headed there. Tige? – I know he’s still around though I shouldn’t tell you where. We made a pact some years ago when things went awfully bad. For years he’s been the best darn mascot my school ever had. John Posey 12/05/12


Long poem by Amber Stratton | Details |

Vows

I had completely given up on life.
I thought there was nothing else in my life to live for.
Then we met again.
I do not know what happened but something inside me lit up.
I could not figure out what was inside this dead heart that caused it to spark to life.
I thought I had loved the real love but this was harder to stop.
Harder more to not give into what is called the unknown emotions of life.
Then you told me you wanted me for me.
I did not know what to do.
Most of me said not to go; not to hurt the MAN in front of me.
When that faithful day came, you told me the absolute truth about loving me.
The moment my heart left my chest I had to chase after it.
My heart led me straight to you; into your arms and into the happiness I needed.
Now I sit here wondering when I will see your handsome face.
Wondering when you will be able to tell me everything and anything on your mind.
Before we got together or even met up again, I did not want a family.
There is something about you alone that caught me, my curiosity.
When your lips fell upon mine, my breath disappears like being stolen right out of me.
When you whisper my name, my voice cuts out and I cannot make a sound. 
When I fell your breath on my neck, it sends boiling hot shivers up and down my spine.
When I felt your first touch of the day, it sent a feeling through my body that I don’t know.
I believed and thought why did I get chosen to experience this, but I now do not care.
Now I believe this happened for a reason but that reason I do not know either.
Like the old saying goes, “True love is one of a kind and soulmates are once in a lifetime.”
I had never felt like this before that first time I knew you were my dark prince.
I felt so many different positive sensations.
I did not know where to begin to explain.
Everything I thought about love that did not apply to me.
Then, well…I’m glad it does now.
Everything I thought about life that I would not get to experience.
Everything up to that moment of utter happiness with you, I went through hell.
From being emotionally hurt to being physically beaten for what I believed in.
From being burned by the most common things to the unthinkable kindness you now show me.
I never thought a relationship would be so kind and caring without the violence. 
Now all I see is the love and kindness there is suppose to be and now I don’t care about the others.
My heart still won’t let me pick it up out of your hands and put it back in my chest. 
Every time I feel your soft hands on my skin my body shudders underneath you.
Right know I can’t wait to see your face light up when you see me again my love.
When you and I get to be together again, I know it will be as amazing and as wonderful like the first.
When we get to be alone, I know you want your way with me; and I will let you. 
In the beginning I was scared of what could be but now I want more of the unknown future with you.
I don’t mind having to wait for as long as I get to be beside you in the end.
The love that I have known in the past but the love I know now I want to give to you more. 
Now after you have shown me what love really is, I want that family only with you.
I want that family, everything that you would like to have; each other, the family pets, the best; but most of all I want the love the care and my soulmate…


Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

Two's Magic Nose

Such a nose had Ol’ Blue.
Best in south Missouri... everybody knew.
Could smell a pheasant across the plain.
Could point a covey in a hurricane.
That’s the way the legend goes.
Ol’ Blue had a “magic nose.”
 
As Blue got older, his master’s mind would drift away
To a place where he and young Blue used to play. 
In the mornings, sitting over his coffee cup
He found it sad there were no pups.
He thought it would be such a shame
If the only memory was Ol’ Blue’s name.
 
So, Jim was compelled and full of pride;
He made a search, far and wide,
To find Ol’ Blue a suitable mate.
No doubt, his offspring would be great.
It seemed likely, he supposed,
At least one pup would have his “magic nose.”
 
She was a Champion Miss from New Orleans,
A beautiful “red” named Cajun Queen.
But Blue suddenly passed away, before the pups were born.
Jim was broken hearted.  He and “Queenie” mourned.
Then came the litter, but there was only one.
Jim struggled for hope; after all, he was Ol’ Blue’s son.
 
Dappled and lanky, a handsome little cuss,
He looked just like Blue.  Jim made such a fuss.
Naming this pup would require no ado.
It was obvious.  Officially, he would be “Blue Two.”
Oh yes, these were mighty large tracks to fill.
“Can he?”, folks asked.  Jim would say, “Heck yes he will!”

So his nickname became “Two” and he seemed to be smart.
Soon it was time for his training to start.
The basics went well, but Jim’s outlook grew very dim
When, instead of pointing, Two would wag and jump and bark at him.
Oh, Two seemed to be trying; but try as he might,
He just could not seem to ever get it right.

“Blue’s son or not, he’s got to go!”
Jim found Two a “pet home” far away, in Tupelo.
On his way back, he stopped in Texarkana.
Been too long a time since he’d seen his sister Hannah.
Six days and six pounds later, he was back on his way.
Work at the farm was callin’ and he’d be drivin’ all day.
 
He thought about Ol’ Blue and wondered if and when
He’d ever have a birddog as good as Blue again.
Oh, he knew another “magic nose” was just a far off dream;
After all, it wasn’t something any man could scheme.
A “magic nose” was a gift from God, only given to a few;
And he was proud and very lucky just to have known Ol’ Blue.
 
As he turned into his drive, he broke into a smile.
“Why… I can’t believe it!  It…It must be 300 miles!”
Two was on the porch, thin and dirty; but he struck a handsome pose.
Jim ran and hugged Two hard.  “How’d you get back?  Lord only knows!”
Suddenly Jim realized; and struck with awe, he slowly rose.
A tear trickled to his smile.  “Why Two… you have a “magic nose!”
 
Two and Jim are best of friends, together everywhere.
From milkin’ cows to bedtime, Two is always there.
Jim doesn’t hunt much anymore, now Two’s a rescue dog.
Just last month, he saved a little girl lost in Cooley’s Bog.
Jim struts and tells proud, heroic stories;
While Two wags and jumps and barks, and shares his glory.
 
Jim boasts, “Like father, like son!”, then speaks fondly of Blue;
But all know the largest tracks to fill are those of Two.
His deeds are known far and wide,
And fill Jim’s heart with love and pride.
For with every rescue, the legend grows;
About a dog named Two, and his “magic nose.”


Long poem by Robert Candler | Details |

Circle of Life - A Pet Story

It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
   his untimely end.

He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends.  I do care.”

Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.

So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?


We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.

Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.

He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.

“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.

And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…

There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight 
   to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.

“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy.  You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats.  It’s up to you”.

As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred.  I almost cried.

On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.

But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.

But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.

For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea, 
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me.  Please, take me”.

“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.

In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.

Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.


Long poem by Alfred Vassallo | Details |

Chasing a Rabbit Soft Toy

Destiny made me the last one 
out of a six pack family,
I don’t know how I found mum’s tit 
but I did, thankfully.

I was born white with black patches all over, 
I was very cute
unlike my brothers and sisters 
who frequently gave me the boot.

I was always playing by myself 
though mum joined in my fun too
she was a big and agile creature, 
once she told me I was tried and true.

It wasn’t long before I was separated,
knowing not what future it will bring
I only missed my big and agile mother 
from the beginning I wasn’t one for quibbling.

That they I left I was given the name Jack
I was still very young but made to work hard,
early in the mornings sprinting and chasing,
chasing and sprinting often taken off guard.

Few months later I was sold to a new owner
a kind man who named me Meadows Joker
by this time I was getting good at my job
I was going well without the need of a choker.

I have passed my trials with flying colours
I was not judged classy just good for my grade
the first task came on a Monday evening,
I was very excited and posed well at the parade.

The flag went up and the rabbit was on the run
the gates opened unfortunately I was left behind
I was ashamed of myself and couldn’t face the man
who came a patted me, obviously he didn’t mind.

Next time I will do well and make him very proud
my chance came a week later installed in trap three
I was on the alert and as the gates opened I flew out,
unfortunately the one next to me bumped me free.

I was angry and furious but also disappointed
when I fell I hit my bottom, oh my, oh my I was in pain
my master again was very helpful and understanding
rubbing some cream on my bum to ease the strain.

Third time lucky so the saying goes and I believed it
the next race I was entered I won so easily and with pride
I saw the owner laughing coming straight to me full of kisses
I was full of emotion and in all honesty I also cried.

I ran ninety nine races in all and winning seventeen of them
at fours years old I injured my hock not severely but painful
the master did not hesitate and he retired me instantly
taking me to his home as his pet, to me he was so faithful.

I lived with him and his wife until I was thirteen years old,
I was cared for, fed properly and loved as if I was their son
I could see him heartbroken and dismayed when I died
being the runt of the family only I was the loved one. 

Please note Meadows Joker was truly my greyhound and all that I stated in this poem is factual. I confess that when I wrote the last stanza a tear popped out of my eye. I truly loved him and I still miss him.
Penned Wednesday 16th July 2014 and I dedicate this poem to all pet lovers.
Meadows died on Thursday 25th February 2010 at 17.10.







Long poem by Carol Eastman | Details |

Chia Pet Dragon

Dragon was upset when the Sheriff of CrazyLand banned him from the park.
A week from the park! And the new leash law Had To Go! He Squawked!
He was bad, but to wear a leash… Upset him, sooo very much, you know!
And he wasn’t done communing with nature, for answers he needed, sooo...
Dragon snuck back into the park to add more, to his 2 year old reality.
You see; he believed nature was wild and he was more like humanity.

After all he’s not a pet, to lie around the house and wear a leash. Honestly!
He learned, only pigeons are allowed on statues. He’d proceed, cautiously! 
So Camouflage became the new…name of the game, with his new mindset.
So he got the Great idea; Dragon and his penguins would become Chia Pets!
They poured the seeds all over themselves And NO! I’m not joking at that!
The penguins made great Chia pet shrubs, until a dog decided to pee, splat! 

Trust me! The penguin got angry! And you don’t want to know the result!
Dragon was more a Chia mountain, with a volcano blowing steam, engulfed.
And you must know, Our Dragon can’t sit still a minute, on any given day. 
So when he saw the track, he became a mountain on the run, you might say. 
He left a trail of Chia, that even the crazy Sheriff, couldn’t possibly miss!
The Sheriff knowing him well, decided: why chase him around like this?

He got the fire department to meet him at the favored ice cream parlor shack.
The Sheriff couldn’t keep a straight face, knowing just how he would attack!
As Dragon came up puffing smoke, to get even, he would simply, holler fire!
The firemen would put out Dragons’ fire! But, it never ends, as one conspires.
As Dragon arrived, the sheriff gave a child, an ice cream, in the combat zone.
Yep! His butt was facing Dragon as he bent over to hand the child the cone. 

An errant spark set HIS pants on fire… So instead of hosing Dragon down…
The Sheriff, became the one who got hosed, by the firemen, from all around! 
‘Really? Again?’ Was all he could scream! Tho the irony hadn’t been missed.
The paparrizzi, standing nearby, had heard the plan… So pictures snapped!
The newspaper captions the next day, read: ‘Sheriff brought low by GOD’… 
At nature’s request’ THE One and Only Burning Bush: lit the Sheriff on fire!

Of course, the Sheriff ordered Dragon out of the park, again, as he screamed!
But Dragon had his answer, GOD protects all and Nothing is what it seems! 
Gentle Dragon had survived an attack, from the wild Sheriff’s petty schemes. 
Who was hauled away in a padded wagon, for a small vacation, in-between. 
And the Newspaper papparizzi answered all Dragon’s questions, penned, 
In The End!


Long poem by Shawn Sackman | Details |

If Momma Ain't Happy, Nobody's Happy

We made love, and then we fell in love
Not knowing what it really was…
Love’s just not a dream, a home, kids, pets and things..
But it allows us to see the beauty they bring

But there’s one thing that I’ve learned beyond a real doubt
If you you’re so unhappy that you want to shout it out
That you don’t have a clue, and you're real unhappy cause…
If momma ain’t happy, nobody’s happy
If momma ain’t happy, then nobody’s happy

Your twenties and your single friends were running short
Maybe you had a wish to be free from the sport
Of choosing a mate that some call soul
Not leaving it to fate to take its toll, hey hey..

You’re a great companion, a lover, and a mom
But you’re hiding emotions that if don’t come unstrung
Will overshadow the good and the joy in your life
I pray you’ll find peace somewhere in all the strife

But there’s one thing that I learned beyond a real doubt
If you you’re so unhappy that you need to shout
I don’t want to sound like I’m down or sappy, but…
If momma ain’t happy, nobody’s happy
If she ain’t happy, then nobody’s happy

The new you is looking for some validation
Not just merely for peer admiration
Something all yours, made on your own
I’m with you all the way, you always known..

I live with the fear I’m just along for the ride
I think you’re leaving me, tough thing to hide
I want you to know its breaking parts of me away
To see you so distant each and every day

But there’s one thing that I’ve learned beyond a real doubt
If you you’re so unhappy that you need to shout it out
That you don’t have a clue, and you feel real scrappy cause…
If momma ain’t happy, nobody’s happy
I said if she ain’t happy, nobody’s happy

Everyone has days that some call blue
I’m here to listen with an ear that’s true
I still make you laugh, its important to say
You can make your own mark without drifting away

Our kids, dogs, and even our horses too
Are joyful souls because of me and you
I often picture what our twilight years’ll bring
Two old lovers laughing, not too serious a thing

There are some things we should never be without
Family, God’s love, we should shout it out
You always have my heart, I pray your dreams come true
You can count on me, you know I love you.. I do

But there’s one thing that I’ve learned beyond any doubt
If you you’re so unhappy that you want to scream and shout
That you don’t have a clue, and you're real unhappy cause…
If momma ain’t happy, then nobody’s happy…
Momma please be happy, i pray you’ll be happy…
Momma please be happy, i pray you’ll be happy…


Long poem by Edwin Baldwin | Details |

Congruity

 The forces of nature are being perverted, turning good into bad, and the bottom line, 
the key to it all is profit. 
 Primates choose co-existence within a group driven by forces of the first law of nature.
 When we engage in a symbiotic relationship, this law of nature is less burden sum on the 
individual. 
 Humans chiefly rely on our sense of sight; we take up with others who appear to be 
most like us, and lend ourselves to the saying that seeing is believing.  
 Fear is our prime motivating factor, and  advertising executives will tell you that fear 
sells.

 What we are witnessing is the perversion of our survival engine, making the money 
wheel go round.  We are made to fear everything by key design, and our survival instinct 
is telling us there is safety in numbers.  So we identify ourselves with a group, and 
instinctively try to fit in, by purchasing our reality of acceptance. 

                     Monkey see monkey do!
 She’s a nerd, He’s a skater,  They’re preps, I’m a goth.
 How can you tell them apart?  By the things they purchase.
 The purchasing of acceptance is also found in the sub culture as well.
 People who want to break away from being normal are victims of fear.
 The fear of being sell outs, like the Brady bunch family types who are part of a 
system that they despise. How can you tell them apart? By the things they purchase.
 What you see is what you get, and what we are getting is what we see.
 The purple hair, body piercing, and tattoos; are the same as, the Coach hand bags, spray tans, and botox injections. One monkey’s Marilyn Manson to another monkey’s Bach.


                      Form follows thought.
 Our survival engine is a universal constant force, and fear is the constant variable that shifts our transmission into drive. No one wants to grow old, living alone dressed in rags and eating cat food.
 Even the separatists who choose to be an island in this Sea of crap are fearful.  So 
there’s an on line computer game for that, or a chat room for that, or a hobby for that, 
or pets for that, or a pill for that, and of coarse there’s media entertainment for that.
 No matter this or that the key turns our survival engine on and fear shifts the 
transmission into drive, and together they keep the money wheels turning…and that's the bottom line.

I once heard someone say “thank god for Hardly Davidson cause it gives fat hairy 
beer belly slobs something to be a part of.” She was holding an imitation Louis 
Vuitton hand bag and on her way to the tanning salon when she said that


Long Poems