Behind our house, below the deck
with its pleasing benches and sylvan view,
the back yard we have descends steeply
to a little stream called Chimacum Creek.
It is September, so the Creek’s waters
are shallow, so shallow that
little music from its ripple and flow
rises to meet our eager, listening ears above.
Any day now, the waters will surrender
their serenity and in noisy salute
yield to thrashing thunder,
as salmon spawn and meet their demise.
Sheltering us there from summer’s heat
and winter’s chilled and rainy drench,
a little family of barred owls often call and beg,
their nocturne nearly undisturbed by our home's intrusion.
Outside, my wife stands in solitary contemplation,
for this is her temple, and she its worthy guest.
Yet the minutes and hours pass so slowly now,
as grief stands weary watch with her.
We had grown so accustomed to our dear child’s
heartened ways, as ever eager to greet us
at morning’s hesitant, uncertain dawning glow
as at evening’s surrender to curl upon our bed to sleep.
Jet black hair and soft green eyes—her special dance
each moment to delight us so, we had never ever
thought today would bring us only fading echoes of
all we held so dear in this sweet and tender form.
No matter that she had a tail and two more legs than us,
she lived and loved and spoke with such eloquence
and grace, the best of us were shamed.
Angels withheld not their envy and begged for her return.
So grieve with us a moment, for fled is now
that little feline snowflake in our hand.
My rhyme is vanished; my muse is stilled.
Shadow was her name.
Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2017
the gray cat, Tempus, in doldrums
lazes, purring, stretching.
I have watched him:
cunning eyes half-closed,
he stalks bright birds in the garden,
near day lilies.
Wings wet from flights
through the sprinkler's sweeps,
the birds swoop, glide, flutter.
They light on dry grass,
strut and shake themselves,
are lulled. Then,
Tempus pounces on one bird.
The rest are routed…
And Tempus fugit.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2011
This is Mine, All Mine by Chuck Keys
Fall day, perfect,
Sunny brisk alive.
Filtered rays of sunlight.
Shimmering through semi barren trees
Scattered blown leaves
Patiently waiting their first winter freeze,
So - very serene, calm, barely a sound,
A bird or two chirping
Looking about ready.
There, a small sparse bush
Proudly showing a tiny new green innocent bud,
Nonchalantly waiting about.
His chance to grow,
Fading with shortened cooler days coming
On the trail, my dog,
At my front, back and
Protectively jumping, sniffing, flying, yelping
Majestically prancing about and over,
Manly pawing his ground,
Feeling heat from
The October daytime warmed earth
Dried decaying broken leaves of time fading,
Wind behind his gate,
Cantering soundlessly but hard, manly
Racing airborne paws;
Panting with passion, drooling in chase,
Soaring gleefully effortlessly in-flight,
... off the ground
... leaping high, higher, highest
Endlessly into the wilderness,
On his ground. His movements
… echoing, uncontrolled.
The tamed beast; driven as ever,
Head locked rigid aimed forward, high, tongue draped aside out
Eyes opened squinting into the wind, starring affront
Nose twitching alive on fire in hunt,
Tail erect, straight as an arrow on
Legs in sync with one another, together
Body pulsing as one, muscles taught,
On guard, with pride and ownership.
He stops, panting eyes piercing,
… side to side, front to back
"This is mine, all mine" ... he says
... he says to his daddy.
Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010
My dog is full of life and glee
But gentle and kind as should be.
She sits beside me day and night.
I have no fear that she will bite.
When troubles come we see them thru.
We live in a house of silvery white and golden hue.
And then she died.
Oh such a day.
The sorrows were heavy.
The tears they ran.
I am now alone in our golden span.
Remember her well.
Forget her not.
To honor her memory I chose this spot.
Remember her well.
Forget her not.
The joy she gave.
The love she got.
This was the 1st poem I wrote for school at 11 years old. My 1st dog
and constant companion had just died.
Now 52 years ago. By Carol Eastman
My Pet Poetry Contest
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
Cry Baby Cat,
was a stray that turned up
wailing outside our front door.
We never turn down a stranger in town,
especially when clouds
have gathered to storm.
Beginning to pour, I opened the door,
and we welcomed him in, as the thunder began
Well, he shivered, and wailed even more!
His coat was all wet,
like a little drowned rat
so I dried him, the best that I can.
We fed him a bit,
and settled the cat
in a box, filled with blankets, within.
Found a new litter box, and tucked it away
not far, where the kitty would stay.
We turned off the lights, but the thunder and fright
scared the cat, and he soon disappeared !
Right under our bed, .....so while poking my head
'neath the spread of the bed, I said "Here, kitty, kitty"...
and my heart had such pity, for the poor little fit he was in.
And that's how it began, scaredy cat had no friends
Till we fell head over heels till the end!
He was just a cry-baby....., and although we said "maybe"
he picked us back then, as his kin
For Francine's Contest: Beloved Pets 6/18/15
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
As cold winds blew that stormy night
The dog kept howling at the moon
But the two kittens played with delight
They never went to sleep so soon
Snowflakes pirouetted with delicate grace
As we kept warm by the fireplace
When I glanced over by the rocking chair
I beheld the most beautiful sight, I do declare
Two kittens snuggled up next to their mom
As they rested from their play
With their mother's legs around them
In purrfect peace they lay
And as they blissfully slept
In their little heads sweet dreams crept
In love's embrace so warm they were kept
There are a thousand words a picture paints
Some of beauty and some quite quaint
But even angels smile in heaven above
When a picture paints a thousand words of love
Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2013
I see her still in twilights shroud
At visions edge she’s standing still
She lives on for me, but makes no sound
Her presence felt , a loving glow.
She watches me with sightless eyes
The look that speaks but makes no sound
Where shadows spill she lingers now
But when I look I cannot see, just feel.
She should be here if fate were kind
My partner in the quite times
I miss the things she needed that I gave.
That giving soul that has now passed.
She waits, I know she does.
The bond that held will always be
She was my friend, my love, my charge.
Now my pain, my loss, my memory’s dear.
Copyright © charlie milne | Year Posted 2009
nothing nothingtodo today
so I am in my little citygarden
sitting on the porch
in the shade with my tea
the garden full of rainbowgems and greenery
old fat cat is stretched out snoring
and little cat is on my feet
purring she just finished killing-
a blue flower it lay under her claw
the air is still the wind chime is waiting
and then a faint tinkle asoothingbreeze
in the distance the hum of traffic so faint-
it mingles with the silence
a hummingbird zipped by but did not stop
to say hello nothing nothingtodo
but sit in the shade watching my garden grow
August 11, 2015
For the contest, Don't Fight it .....Write it! Sponsor, John Lawless
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
Cassie came to me
damaged and afraid
“just let me hide in this corner”
it was like she prayed
“I’ll be fine if left alone
with food and water
I’m not sure she wanted
to even be alive
I forced my love on her
for I wouldn’t settle for this
forced gentle caresses
warm hugs and a kiss
though I knew
she couldn’t be expected
to understand any of this
day after day
I fought the war to win her heart
night after night
I seemed to be losing the battle
waiting for love to start
one night I felt
her tiny, precious head
nestled against mine
curled up in my bed
her fur so soft and fine
heard her quiet, contented sigh
and that was when I knew
Cassie was finally mine
Copyright © Lisa Milligan | Year Posted 2011
When daddy brought you
home l loved you instantly.
You were my friend and
Throughout the years you
became part of the family.
My love for you will never end.
There's a special place in my
heart reserved for you alone.
As l look back down memory
lane. I remember the day you
left us. That sad day is forever
engraved in my memory.
On this day you ran out the gate
into on coming traffic and got hit
by a car. I cried until the tears had
no longer fell. I was devasted l not
only lost my pet dog, I lost one
of my family members.
Daddy buried you in the back yard
of the old house. Rest in peace my
beloved Big Red.
Copyright © Alexis Y. | Year Posted 2016
Freshly baked every morning,
Even at noon and in the evening,
In different shapes and colors-
Some dense, some light
Some like desert manna
Some flat, some leavened
Some long and whole
Or sliced in small pieces
Some cooled, some hot
So soft and then some hard
With such Heavenly aromas
Served at the Master's Table
Of chairs, booths, benches
And cushions for tired knees,
Healing is the children's bread.
They hunger no more for worldy feasts.
Even their dogs eat the fallen crumbs,
Sometimes portions from their hands;
As the children drink Living Water,
They thirst no more for bitter fountains
And sources of a soul's diseases.
On earth the Master tabernacles
With us for many days of Heaven.
Within without we are healed
And given our daily bread.
Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007
sinuous little pad foot
essence of dark design
twilight has released you
out of my back door.
bathe in black,
as it floods paradise
swirls with night sound
just beyond the porch light.
in that field of mustard
your iniquitous enemy
safe in an earth ship
sit still as pyramids,
proud familiar, not one gleaming tooth
would touch the boor tonight.
Copyright © PATRICIA CRESSWELL | Year Posted 2017
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2012
Ah, Red Macaw, you are the pestilence
in my day, soaring far, far overhead
squawking and screaming
your face overheated and red
beak too portentous
for sweets, gobbling and demanding
if ever you stop, but the leaves
have no leavening, you’re all feed
and poop and mar my day.
Even though I seek you out
you escape, Scotch-free,
wearing a tartan of betrayal.
Who you seem to be
righter of words, merely mimics
what experience I bring
with my heart and days. I want to
wear flames, gold, drink juices
that drip from the blues of my mouth.
You wear my head where I have shadow.
You wear my flight, straight and narrow
Branching and diving and soaring.
You wear my hunger for the sweetness
of truth, but follow only my path
Where is yours? Where is your course?
Of course. Your caw, screams
Why don’t you speak your own language
Know your own. Your home.
Instead of mine.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2012
Goldie, my peculiar but beloved cat,
has certain affectations --
she prefers, most times, her own society
and shuns her housemates.
But, sometimes, she cuddles
or will join the others
to laze around -- in the living room,
the dining room, a hallway, or
in the kitchen.
An inside cat who, early on,
suffered the indignity of
she asserts her independence
by darting into the front yard
when a door is opened --
and she pointedly ignores
any calls or pleas to come inside.
But when the door shuts
and no one is around, she is fearful,
immediately climbing up into the ash tree.
And there she stays
until I come to coax her down.
She may climb high up
and, finally, shakily manage
a descent to allow me to pick her up
and carry her back inside.
She never leaves the yard
but does enjoy ignoring me
when I am in a hurry.
She will dart about and run
from one side of the yard to the other.
For her, it's only an infrequent game.
And, as my treasured pet,
she certainly deserves to play
while testing the limit
of my affectionate, chagrined
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012
I remember the day Trixie died,
Sinbad staring out upon her grave.
No crying, just day after day, homage.
I couldn’t stand seeing the pain,
Nothing I did, petting, holding,
Could bring him away from the grave.
So down to the pet store I drove
Hoping for a partner to please
And found a pair of cuddles, babies
Arms wrapped together in play
One black one orange which should it be?
Orange like Sinbad or black?
But how could I take one from another
Leave another hole, so black and orange
Babies two, drew Sinbad back over
To sleep the peaceful sleep of cuddles
Warmth from another, held like a mother
Or held like a father, Sinbad was mine
Once more we could live in happy cheer
Death deserted from our midst
When the wonder of youth appeared.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
It's that time of year again
I saw the neighbor's white cat
Chaseing their neighbor's striped cat.
Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2008
~Cats And Frogs~
(The American Diamante)
Dorian Petersen Potter
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015
My guinea pig
With the black and brown stripes
And the eyes big and black like space
And tiny little ears
That perk up when he hears the food come.
My guinea pig
Who sits on my lap
As I read, or just watch him
As he shifts tring to find a comfortable position
As he squeaks
Or a thousand other emotions
My guinea pig
Who eats all day
And all night
And when he's done
He eats some more
Copyright © Hannah Stockwell | Year Posted 2015
Be a Bee!
Copyright © Muhammad Safa Thajudeen | Year Posted 2014
What a wonderful day to give my Yorkie a bath
Peanut, my four year old boy Yorkie,
sixteen pounds of love and affection,
a coat of blue silver and tan long straight hair
that parts down the middle of his back
He stands with his head in the air with courage and confident of himself
Peanut is due for a bath
which of course he knows
With warm water and shampoo
I lather and rinse him off
Carrying him outside
wrapped in a towel
brush and hairdryer in hand
Oh, he looks so beautiful
long blue silver and tan long straight hair
wagging his little short tail
with a fresh clean scent
My husband had mowed the lawn that morning
so there is lots of loose grass
I didn’t mind Peanut rolling in
but it had rained at least two inches last week
with muddy standing water behind the shed
Guess where my angel decided to go?
He just couldn’t pass it up
a straight path into the muddy standing water
I grinned and shook my head
Whether I like it or not Peanut is due for a bath again
Poetry Contest:I Love My Pets!
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016
Lines of light through window shades,
Landing near a ball of grey
The 'Burger beneath the table lies
Eye a sphere of sport.
Copyright © Wm Paul | Year Posted 2014
On a stormy winter night
With a chimney only in sight…
A pooch sat and stared…
At the curious sight
Of a flickering light
That dazed and caught his sight…
“Oh what is this flickery light!?”…
Thought this curious pooch…
“Whatever shall I do to this light that constantly makes me wag my tail?”
Silently he stared and gave the flickering light a very serious glare…
The pooch barked and howled wanting to play with this new light…
But the light only flickered and glared…
With colors about
And sounds that would shout
The pooch couldn’t resist…
He slowly crept up and went for a pounce…
But the light was no longer there…
“Where did you go?”
Thought the curious pooch with tail wagging that he just couldn’t hide…
Fire & Ice contest
Now alone in the dark
Hearing the beating of his heart
The pooch settled down and grinned and thought…
“The light must have hid!”
The pooch searched through the house,
Under the couch,
Behind the tree,
Even under a flea…
But the light was nowhere to be seen…
With tail still wagging
He curled up for a dream
And slowly drifted off to sleep
With the flickery light, dim but insight
As well decided to sleep…
On cold winter nights…
With flickery lights…
And a pooch with silly dreams,
We understand the sight of sleepless nights
And why “the dish ran away with the spoon”…
Copyright © Jessica Kuilan | Year Posted 2012
Please do not look at me
Do not wipe away my tears
I am so pathetic
Tied and chained
Held as a pet by man
But, I am not a pet
I am a father
Two kids and a mate
Now, they are just a memory
Living in a forest so far away
We climbed and swung together
Ran across the jungle floor
We are always together
We were always a family
I was born to live free
In the world where God placed me
Others are still being trapped
Sold and traded as pets
Slaves to men who really don’t care
Tortured and chained for amusement
Someday someone will learn
They will free us
We will be allowed once again
To live, play and raise our young
The way we were meant to
Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2016
A master's wait is forever
time is frozen until
You hear his footsteps in the distance
You feel the screen door opening
You sniff the door and read his scent
Your tail wags and your heart skips
a yelp and ernest whine escape your lips
The door opens and you dance around his legs
and as he bends down with open arms
You leap into them
licking his face with hello kisses
Enthusiasm of joy echos as you cry out loud
Yes the world is better for master is home
Man's best friend
Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2015
People often get stuck on what to call their fish
and in many cases come up with ridiculous things.
They imagine some kind of greatness, attached to
naming, and they name them Moby, or Jaws, or Hannibal.
Some are poetic and flowing like water- Eulalie
or Aolani( Ay-o-lawn-ee) which means "Heavenly Cloud."
Some joke, and call them Sushi or Chips
which no self respecting pet suspects the meaning of …..
or, they invoke nature -
Bubbles and Starlight or Pearl.
Once, I knew a puffer fish named Toto.
A small attraction in a Sheraton resort....turtle pool
.above a path of yellow stone he would surface
squirt a perfect stream of water from his mouth
to the surprise and delight of every tourist
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013
Jump sniff chew scratch
dogs loved to be stroked on their backs
Run pant stretch bark
dogs love playing ball in the park
Digging holes with their clawed nails
Long ears and wagging tails
I love dogs
they are such fun
throw a stick and watch
Peter Dome.copyright.2013. Dec.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2013
I am but a dog locked up in a cage.
I have a lot of neighbors but they bark at me all day.
Every day is the same.
I wish they would let me out.
I'd love to be adopted and taken to your house.
I promise I wont bark I'll be as silent as a mouse.
I want jump on the couch.
But please don't waste your time.
You know you want me you just have to realize.
But I don't have much time, you see tomorrow I wont be here if you come for me then.
For my time here has come to a end as it does for many of us furry friends.
They take us to a room that has no return.
Tomorrow I go there.
I await a uncertain fate and this I hate.
I have ate my last meal.
My tail has wagged for the last time.
So take me now or forever say good-bye~
Copyright © Kable Brown | Year Posted 2012
It all started when Mr. Pie was a little bugger,
Just a wisp of fluff in the palm of your hand.
"Oh, isn't mama's little man the most handsomest EVER?!"
Not a day has gone by when he has argued that point!
"Be careful with all that encouragement" I prophetically warned,
"It may go straight to his head!!"....and what a head it became!!
Grey, dignified, regal....a lions mane with white marbling.
2 golden eyes piercing you with that casually bored stare one may give to one's shoes.
Every morning at 8 am and every night at 10 pm he demonstrates his knowledge of time.
Head-butting the door and SCREAMING the words "MOM!!!
MAAAWWWMMMM!!......NOW???!!???.........MOM??? NOWWWWW??" (for real!!)
Needless to say, he's got us trained pretty well,
But we're still working on house-breaking me!!!!!
He still has yet to teach us PROPER portion control,
And I get the impression I'm not so popular when I give less than expected.
Maybe it's the "Death-threat" stare, or maybe the Kitty Log in my slippers, I don't know!
All I can tell you is don't EVER make the mistake of addressing him as a "cat"
Or you may come to know the justice of King Pie, The Terrible........just a warning!!
Copyright © Jim David | Year Posted 2010
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