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Bird Dog Poems | Bird Poems About Dog

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

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Details | Free verse |

The Fledgling

A fledgling crow huddled in
the grass beneath the drooling
gazes of my curious dogs.
Its eyes were blue.

And in the tree, its mother screamed

In my hands it lay, gently confused.
Too young to fear me,
it opened its thirsty beak and greedily
swallowed water from a syringe.

And outside the window, its mother screamed. 

I scratched its head,
stroked its breast,
and boxed it for its journey
to a refuge for homeless birds.
And, as I carried it to the car,
its mother circled overhead.

And screamed. 

Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Iambic Pentameter |

Peanuts Charlie Brown's SNOOPY

My favourite comics is the Peanuts strip
Featuring 'good grief' good old Charlie Brown
Reading it takes me on a pleasant trip
Especially when Snoopy is around

Charlie Brown's faithful beagle is Snoopy
They get along with each other quite well
He can be sneaky when he is ready
Yet, just when and where, you can never tell

When Linus, in one hand, holds his blanket
The thumb of his other hand in his mouth
Snoopy sneaks in, suddenly grabs hold of it
Then runs around, spinning him all about

Yellow Woodstock is Snoopy's feathered friend
He bounces up and down when he's flying
On Snoopy's friendship he needs to depend
He alone knows what Woodstock is saying

Snoopy flies off in his Sopwith Camel
To the skies to battle the Red Baron
They both engage in a fearsome duel
Each trying to outdo the other one 

Snoopy dances around when he's happy
If Lucy is close by, she must watch out
He would dance up to her very closely
Lean over and then kiss her on the mouth


Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |


with the sun blazing hot
we set off in the car
with the kids and the dog
and the budgerigar

with a bit of a rush 
we're at the seaside
where the air's fresh and clean
and there's donkeys to ride

on the large sandy beach
we've a perfect picnic
with the sun beating down 
the time passes quick

with the sky turning grey
we expect it to rain
with haste we pack up
then we set off again

with the dusk drawing in 
we are back from afar
with the kids and the dog
and the budgerigar

Copyright © Tony Hargreaves | Year Posted 2015

Details | Imagism |

The Soldier

There once was a soldier,
So loyal, so brave.
He fought a long struggle,
‘til the end, ‘til the grave.

The struggle went on,
For days, for years.
No end in sight,
No break, just tears.

He fought alone,
Nobody would help.
No one would listen,
To his struggling yelp.

He fought on and on,
No food, no sleep.
Nobody had noticed,
Not a bit, not a peep.

But his loving dog did,
She helped, she cared.
But when her time came,
He fell, despaired.

The fight got harder,
The nights, longer.
He thought he’d survive,
He thought he’d get stronger.

Then after 4 years,
Of crying, of weeping.
A rooster had stopped him,
From dying, from seeping.

But after a year,
His new found-friend died.
He had to wonder,
And then he just sighed.

Was this life worth living?
Alone, afraid.
Where his best friends die,
And he’s left to fade.

There once was a soldier,
So alone, so distraught.
Who took his own life,
Suicidal, overwrought.

This man fought no war,
Not out of his head.
He fought mental challenges,
That left him up dead.

Copyright © Adam Forth | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Our Pets

When God created this world He knew we'd love our pets...
And He gave us special doctors that we call Vets.

There seems to be a special place in many a heart...
Where only a pet can play a part.

They give us memories and fill our hearts with delight...
And they keep us company on a cold lonely night.

They love us, they test us and sometimes even help us heal...
And the excitement of pets in our lives seem to be part of God's will.

Thank you dear God for the family of pets...
I have wonderful memories and no regrets.

A dog or a cat or maybe a bird or two...
Raising a pet seems to be a smart thing to do.


Copyright © tom kesting | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

The Robin In The Tree

“There was a Robin in a tree who spoke to me one day

Where are you going he asked and what will you see

Just a walk in the park I replied, just my dog and me

The Robin asked a beautiful day do you not agree? 

Yes I said, but there are clouds drawing near do you not see?

The Robin tilted his head and looked to the sky

I see the clouds he said, but I think the rain will pass us by

Thank you friend Robin I said with a smile

Would you like to come with us and chat for a while?

No said the Robin, I must be off

But please come by again when next you take a walk

As the Robin flew away my dog looked at me and said

If he ever lands on the ground I will chase him all around

But why said I, he has but to fly

Smiling my dog shook his head and said why ask why?”

Jon J.

Copyright © Jon Jones | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Mr Snowman

Snowflakes swirl of white in different shapes round and round full of spirit they can’t escape falling, falling from the blue vault of heaven draping the cold ground Everything vanishing in white never fearing twinkling, blinking, and sparkling clinging and hugging the trees so dearest Our eyes light up smiles spread over our faces Mum helps to bundle us up warm from head to toe so we won’t get numb playing in the snow Bentley barks, spinning around wagging his tail delighted to join us Soft snowflakes kiss our faces oh so gently as we lie on the fluffy snow flapping our legs and arms like wings while Bentley runs around ebulliently licking our faces Springing up to our feet, throwing snowballs intently Roll and roll as much as we can of the snow stacking three –high building our snowman Big and small black buttons For a mouth, eyes, and its tummy, a small rose plum it looks so dumb for a nose “Oh so funny!” Holly pinned to a felt black top hat for his head Bentley tugs to tighten a red woolen scarf around his neck Oh what a delight Mr. Red Cardinal decides to alight on Mr. Snowman’s holly to peck on the red berries

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Cat Burglar

As he crawled through the window flashlight in hand
Little did he know but would soon come to understand
Feeling his way around so as not to make any noise
When he heard a sound ah must be one of those darn toys

But then he heard it true now he could not misconstrue
"I see you, and Jesus sees you too"
Full of fear and fright he turned to that sound
And as he shined his light it's a silly little parrot that he found

"I see you and Jesus sees you too"
Picking up a lamp on cue he was going to...
But in dropping his flashlight on the floor it shined under the parrots table
Met with an angry salivating roar, this dog belonged in a stable

Looking back up at that goofy bird and completely frozen by fear
And then next what he heard was not what he wanted to hear
"Sic' em Jesus" is what that goofy bird said
Ripped him to pieces should have of just stayed home instead

Copyright © Vincent Flannery | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Morning Muster

The morning has started with a trace of a dew An ascent through the tussock ignites the new day Trailing huntaways eager to work on the ewes Awaited shrill whistles loose the dogs on their prey. A new shepherd surveys as proceedings unfold Sinewy figures employing hill sticks with care. Spectacular vistas with a dawn of pure gold Formidable mountains looking solemn and bare. Below a glass lake reflects sharp rugged peaks A boat carves the water, slicing the image in half. Sounds of dogs barking as sheep break from a creek White ribbons slowly form in planned choreograph. Shepherds whistles are mingled with thousands of bleats Descending sheep merging to form an earth cloud. Above dust and steam rise, as if to compete Wisps of white rolling as matagouri stands proud. A fantail flits on the first hints of the breeze While a waxeye settles amid two twists of barb wire. As sheep reach a plateau, the expanse seems to tease Though allured, dogs restore order on sheep that inquire. Searching mouths hastily nibble tests of fresh grass Stragglers are hastened by gleeful dogs and their bark Looking back up the hill the commotion has passed Hawks floating on thermals within a large arc. Mid morning arrives as the sheep enter the yards Dogs climbing in troughs and having rest in the sun The new shepherd knows this is his time to safeguard His future life on the land has now just begun.
**If I haven't quite portrayed the picture properly this may help. http://www.photomack.co.nz/farming

Copyright © Mark Woods | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Little Dog Blue

Dog felt down, he never smiled anymore.
“I bet its because you're a bore!”
said Freda the Frog.
“Maybe,” said Dog.
So Frog did a trick, to make Dog smile.
And it helped him, just for a while.
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
“I don't know Frog, I wish I knew.”

The next day, Dog could not grin.
Without a bark, he let the Cat in.
“What's this ol boy, you won't say hello?
What's gotten into you, my dear fellow?” 
So Cat led dog on a merry chase
But he soon saw his efforts were a waste
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
Dog sighed, “I don't know Cat, I wish I knew.”

All of the night, Dog laid there without scratching a louse.
He was beginning to worry, Mr. Whiskers, the house mouse.
“Good heavens,” said he to Kitty Cat, “He doesn't even groan.”
“But what's the use, without a good bone?”
So he found a turkey leg in the ice box.
And dangled it in front of Dog. “Have I the pox?”
“Oh, Dog, why are you blue?”
Dog shook his head, “I don't know Mouse, I wish I knew.”

“Listen,” said Polly the Parrot. “I know what's the matter.”
“He misses his master, Miss Hatter.”
The animals then grinned, not all was lost then,
For perhaps with this information, he would smile again.
So together they conspired, to find the missing mistress.
They searched the house, from floor to tress.
But all they found was Mr Hatter, but he missed her too,

“Where are you, where are you, Miss Betty Boo?”
Polly said to they, “Now you know it's true,
She's gone away, our master is blue.
When is she coming back?”
Dog said, “I wish I knew.”

Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |

Birding by Ear

The poem requires a mind
that finds meaning, even divination, 
in language. Non-fiction, 
up to academic standards, demands
evidence. Nothing less will do.
Most of us read fiction and this
needs a taste for action, motivation.

Lately, as have you, I have
thought about our war and its purpose, 
motivation. But I have also closely
listened to the wood thrush, analyzed
its song like a tune by T.S. Monk
or J.S. Bach concerto. One belongs
to the loved ones who ostracize us, too.

The robin, on the other hand, is never calm.
It is the flute-like tones, yes, but mostly
the patient, meditative clarity
of the thrush that enchants. One wants
to be that bird. How will we attain
calm clarity for the species Homo sapiens? 
Through the discipline of asking questions.

A terrorist bombs, a dog barks, 
we do not know their motivations.
Can I be content to be silent
while the evidence is sifted by the many
to a single answer. The World Trade Center
could have been a sacrifice, queen's sacrifice, 
ending history for global governance.

Too much doing is the commonest of mortals' sins.
Peace has many faces, 
the wood thrush in the canopy is one.
A word of praise here, an encouraging word there.
A wraith, a ghost against a busy man, 
verbose, sure of the path, always hungry.
Nothing satisfies like the thrush's song.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku |


There is a small rising tide, 
Upon a beach of Love...
Where Doggies Run, 
and Gulls Cry above....Find It!

Copyright © John Logue | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Have you ever heard alouette

Sound poem.

Have you ever been to a party?
Do you listen to its sounds?
The sound of children's laughter 
Ringing through the house, the sound of the meat 
sizzling on the BBQ,the thumping thud of children
Running,the chatter of parents talking,the crackle
Of dry leaves being trampled

The ding of the doorbell
As more people arrive,the crinkle and tear of presents 
being opened, the bark of the dog playing with the children,
The sound of music echoing through the halls,the chirping of birds, 
the cry of a baby.
Do you hear what I hear?


Copyright © Secrets inyoureyes | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |


Another season has started and he's ready to go.
For the Bobwhite Quail is this hunters foe.
He's one beautiful dog,but he's not for show,
for not many of birds have out smarted old-Joe.

He's been lying in the yard now for months on end
just waiting and waiting for a hunt to begin.
I'll walk up to Joe and say "It's time to hunt Quail"
then I'll open my tailgate and let out a yell!

Old Joe goes from sleeping to straight on his feet,
for this is one bird dog no other can beat.
I'll just smile and rub on his back
for I've seen Joe point to many to sack.

Old Joe has a gift like no other dog.
He once pinned a whole cubby inside of a log.
He looks like a pirate chasing after his loot.
Sometimes he'll just catch them and I won't get to shoot.

People use to ask me wherever we went
where I had found Joe and how much had I spent.
I would just smile and say,"I don't really know"
for no one could have my secret to Joe.

See now days men just scream and they holler
at beaten down dogs all strapped with tight collars.
If's it's a bird dog you've got and are trying to reach,
first you show love then you go teach.

A dog has to love what he's doing inside
or else he won't hunt,he'll just run off and hide.
For Joe's the best bird dog there ever will be
'cause I have loved Joe and he has loved me.

Copyright © Dustin Self | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

The Dog

The Dog asked me: what you have done all these years?
Well! Helped you to see the true phases of white
black worms, mites, dang …,
As well as the beauty of others birds & cats! 
Dose that upper nice part of his head remind you
Of a rigidified stone?
looks like the super full moon!

Copyright © Abdullah Alhemaidy | Year Posted 2015

Details | ABC |



Bees seem frantic in their hives
Crows are behaving erratically
Deer are running, fear in their eyes
Eagles are diving sporadically
Fish are swimming up to the surface
Gophers have left their homes
Humans are starting to feel a little nervous
Insects are crawling out from the stones
Jumping frogs are leaving their ponds
Kittens are being hauled away by their mothers
List of missing pets is miles long
Makes a person wonder
No one has ever seen snakes in the snow
Only the chosen ones know something
People are unaware, but animals know
Quakes are coming

Copyright © Tanis Troutman | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Poetry Kisses

An ant's shadow,
a bird's beak.

A baby's grin,
a little dog's lick.

A poem gets read,
and so it is said

A poetry kiss is blown,
and thrown to its maker.

Copyright © Victoria Riis | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |

Old Man George

Old man George - 87 - who lived next door 
Is I am afraid no longer with us - any more
No - he has not gone and popped his clogs
He is up the on hill with green grass to slog
As an old Shepherd they have placed him best
Near to a place where his old sheep dog rests
He now has the pleasure of looking down on us 
And visits us daily by using the towns local bus
Twenty three years he has been living next door
I would have been happy if it had been some more
Grumpy old George they called him that was no lie
Could be heard all over letting off curses he let fly 
Me - I just thought he was funny way George go
As he called all women slags even one an old crow
In the end they all had enough - George had to go 
They stuck him in places where his heart said - No
I worried and worried thinking how sad at 87 years 
Who thought it was just funny to leave him in tears
Then news came in that he moved to the top of the hill
And I thought to myself “Wow” that was more than brill
A really lovely old people’s home catering all of his needs
With a lovely garden - then out to the birds he still feeds
As I look at his old garden now covered high in weeds
And all the bird boxes empty - now of their bird seeds
The council has just come to clear out the back garden
Twenty three years of growth just left there to harden
And as if old George is not having his good old revenge
When emptying the sheds - did tons of wasps descend
Watching workers running for cover - as only they might
Scared of hundreds of wasps and that one may just bite
Me behind closed windows looked up to the top of the hill
I almost hear old George laughing as the wasps make a kill
Even the old bat next door had done a runner in utter fear
How I wished no one had warned her and she got bit dear
Four old put together sheds - are now getting pulled down 
And not one little bird in the garden - is there to be found 
So my worry goes on as we await the new tenate to arrive
If the bushes get torn down and birds’ nests get to survive
The garden is like an aviary to just about every bird around 
I worry about the ground birds Mr Black and his Mrs Brown
Thinking to myself how time I am aware can never stand still
But here’s to old George having a last moment up on the hill
I'll always remember you George - Shepherd and old "Mucker"
Who lived next door who farted a lot and swore like a trooper
May you live the rest of your days warm - merry and bright
Still cursing us all below from your new home - up a height . . . ; )

Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

The Hunter in the woods

Well met sir, in this silent wood
Where I seek verse and you seek blood,
I knew you were not far from here 
Your gun spoke loud, its message clear.

I judged your day was a success
I found a pheasant in distress,
The shot you fired had pierced its eye
Surprising that it did not die.

Hung there are six I see are dead
Their lovely plumage sodden red,
They fell like hail from up on high
Wide airs highway free where they fly.

When you arrived here on the lane
I knew your interests dealt in pain,
You think your gun’s a lovely thing,
Though nought but death for birds it brings.

Of course it’s only birds you kill
Just little murders give you thrill,
Here for your quarry skulk and hide
Out in this lovely countryside.

These creatures that you hurt and maim
Their yours,you bred them for the game,
You put them in the wood and field
The power of death o’er them to wield.

You’re not alone in this delight
Your dogs they wag and rush and bite,
One fetched a bird with gaping wound,
Your equal joy, though he’s a hound.
So good day sir, your repast done
Time once again to take your gun,
Enjoy the horror game you play
I’ll write my poems another day.

Copyright © rick howarth | Year Posted 2017