Narrative Animal Poems

These Narrative Animal poems are examples of Narrative poems about Animal. These are the best examples of Narrative Animal poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative |

Harambe, living in captivity...
mock forest of the Cincinnati Zoo,
in human world, as well as you can be,
beneath those peering eyes, that visit you.

And what bad fate for you when suddenly
without your fault, a child falls in your space.
At first, you seemed to act quite caringly;
you held his hand and looked into his face.

But then the shrieks of humans made you wild
and frantic, as you soon became afraid.
You dragged him to and fro, that little child...
and chaos then ensued, decisions made.

If only they had found a simple way;
removed the crowd from scaring you with screams,
perhaps your primate nature would then play
into a more protective stance, it seems.

Or maybe darted you to bring you down
and not forever, just a little while,
to rescue the small boy and take the crown
for saving both and ending with a smile.

Poor Harambe, Gorilla, your sad day
to have them end your life for their neglect
of building an enclosure that some way
allowed a tiny child to fall direct.

Within your borrowed space of humankind,
where you knew not of freedom, nature's way,
you had to face your end of days maligned
as a dark beast to pay the price that day.

Harambe, living in captivity,
mock forest of the Cincinnati Zoo,
not many of you left on Earth to see;
so sorry that this fate has come to you.

May 31, 2016

Contest: Choose A Topic
Sponsor: Russell Sivey
Theme Chosen - D Heartbreak, and Loss

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
Hmmm, where do I start? With deep sighs, I am sighing right now.
I just finished burying 2 lizards, and my heart is heavy...

Let me back up a bit...bear with me if I might turn out to be confusing here,
but I just need to write this, release something, in some way
Although I must admit, this is not exactly what I had in mind to write for this day,
hopefully I can write something more decent later...

I have been wanting to write something for my brother since yesterday,
since February 26 is his 10th year death anniversary.
The words remained stuck in my heart, 'til I fell asleep.

Visited him again today, heard mass for him, 
ate a Chinese dinner with my parents and sister, went home.

I now needed dessert. Got a piece of Ferrero Rocher, but just one wouldn't do.
So I got a piece of Almond Roca this time and ate it while walking.

All this time, I have managed to keep my tears away
but maybe somehow, someway, if tears want to fall, they will find a way?

I walk to that area again as I ate that piece of chocolate-
when what do you know, what do you know??

Oh sighs.

I stepped on a lizard.  Again 

Yes. Almost exactly the Same area, tail falls off, and the lizard skitters away.

But. I did not slip this time. But, yes, I still screamed, scaring everybody again.

I. Could. Not. Simply. Believe. IT.

One month and 25 days after, I step on a lizard. Again.

Today, of all days. As if I needed more reason to be sadder.

This time around, I had the sense to try to find that lizard. 
I had to know if it lived, if it was okay.
I pushed away the nearby cabinet.
And there it was.
Rather, and there they were.

The lizard that I stepped on now
and the petrified remains of the lizard that I stepped on on new year's day...
the other one didn't live after all :(

I know it was that lizard, same area, no tail, who else could it be?
Survival mechanism, no match for my killer foot.

By this time, I am crying, sobbing. 
Seriously, the tears just start falling, and my heart so heavy.
And I know it's from the combination of so many things.
The day itself, what I had just done, just things running through me.

What broke my heart, was to see that lizard. 
I was wearing rubber shoes this time, last time I was wearing slippers.
And its guts had spilled from its sides. 
I couldn't help but keep on saying, "Oh, oh, oh lizard, I am so sorry"

I touched it feebly, and it was literally gaping its mouth.
I don't think I can ever forget that?
Such a small creature, gasping, with its insides out, 
its skin on its legs and body scraped.
In pain.

And it was all my fault.

My sister was there with me, trying to help in her own way.

But yes, there's nothing you can really do...I didn't want to stress it even more,
and let death finish what I did. 

There's so much I can glean from this, and I want to ramble on, so badly
but I will try to stop myself from rambling too much.

I put the two lizards, along with a note, the dates when I stepped on them 
(ok, killed them), and placed them carefully in a chocolate truffle box.

I buried them and still feel so sorry.

In some ways, this is can be so funny, and just  freaky & crazy (what's new, this is me?)
What were the odds??? Same place, same thing happening.
And I can't help but roll my eyes at myself as well, just finding it so hard to fathom
how I stepped on not just one but Two lizards in just two months.

I bet that the lizards are all afraid of me now, 
saying how I am a lizard killer. A serial lizard killer.
MO: stepping on them while screaming, maybe my screams also killed them off?

I actually took photos of both lizards, I am not sure why though.
Oh dear God, help me, I am acting like one, even documenting them.

I tell you, as I watched that lizard die, I couldn't help but just also
think of St. Jude (for the impossible) and St. Francis of Assisi (for animals).

I know he was dying, but somehow, yes, prayers still comfort me.

I just feel so guilty, with this happening. 

I still can't help but cry for those lizards, death by me, for no reason at all,
no purpose served.

Animals, people....death.

I know it's all a part of life... 
but it still doesn't change the fact how death can change us
and of how I am responsible for two lizard deaths.
I know they were just small animals, but Still. They were living creatures.

Death can change us in small ways, some in big ways, negatively or positively.

It all boils down to death transforming us one way or another...

I won't expound on it anymore, this is too long,
but one of the ways I can think of comparing it to, is that of a chemical change,
maybe of the spirit, the soul? Not merely a physical change.

And we can never be the same. 


Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
In a land far away was a family with two boys
The oldest loved sports the youngest only toys.
You should be like your big brother the father would always say
It’s time for you to toughen up and leave this childish play.
Yes Quinton was a fighter, loved games of every sort,
But nothing did he want to do more than play a sport.
Daniel he was meek and mild a softie like his mother
He hated when his dad would say, “Be more like your brother.”
Hurt and down he took a walk up on a rocky hill
Throwing stones hard at the water, he let his anger spill.
Why doesn’t my dad love me? Into the air he cried,
Kicking rocks with fists curled, tight against his side.

Meanwhile on an island far across the sea
A leader spoke to the animals, almost like a plea.
Legends say a leader from mainland shall appear 
A strong and faithful warrior, a boy that has no fear.
How shall we find this man child? Asked the animals out loud,
We’ve never seen a human said a yearling really proud.
The Albatross said strong and brave, I will bring him here
I know he isn’t very far, I feel his presence near.
The bird flew out across the sea searching high and low
Wondering where he’d find him, the boy they needed so.
There; high up on a hill side a warrior stood so tall,
He knew it was the chosen one, for he could hear him call.

Now in a flash he swooped down, grabbed Daniel real fast
The albatross was thinking, I’ve found the boy at last.
Daniel he was screaming as he dangled by one leg
Flying over water yelling let me go I beg.
As they neared the island, the animals all gathered round
Watching as the big white bird, let their hero down.
Welcome said a racoon, we’ve waited here so long
Today we’ll have a party, let’s fill the woods with song.
They sat all night telling horrible tales of an enemy they feared
And all felt a little safer now that Daniel had appeared.
I’m not the hero you think I am, there’s been a bad mistake
And a little bunny looked at him, you must be for my sake.

Daniel fell in love that night with all his new friends here
None of them made him feel bad, they made him feel so dear.
For their sakes I must beat this foe, an enemy, a disgrace 
Making sure he never comes back to this peaceful place.
For days they planned together, what everyone would do
And when the varmint showed up they stood up to him too.
Instead of running and hiding, they stood together tight 
The badger lost the battle and ran home fast that night.
The wise old owl thanked Daniel for ridding the beast at last
Conquering their worst enemy, who now is in the past.
On wings of love the hero left his friends on the islands strand
When Daniel went back home that day, he had become a man.

The moral of my story? With a little love and trust,
Everyone can be a hero, we are more than clay and dust.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
Carol Eastman’s Contest: 
Fable to the Rescue 

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
A most unfortunate event
has occurred at our house.
It's embarrassing to admit,
We have a resident mouse.

The elusive little devil
has avoided every trap.
Though set in various places,
we've yet to hear a snap.

We have a playful tomcat
who loves his toy mouse,
carries it clutched in his teeth 
to flip, toss and pounce.

Unfortunately, he performs
the same with a live one.
I'm urging, "Get it, kill it,"
he's too busy having fun.

Again and again he turns
it loose, enjoying the chase.
The mouse runs for his life,
hopeful of winning the race.

The crafty little victim
eludes the slothful brute,
scuttles down a heat vent, 
leaves Tom to other pursuits.

Whereupon he saunters around,
searching for his toy mouse.
We're left with a useless cat
and a mouse in the house.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
I'm sitting cross legged on the side of the road
while Dad holds my shoulders, in trying to console me,
but tears, uncontrolled, keep tumbling down.
Most stunning, right now, is the fear, I've not known
Never before, .....had I felt so alone.

Reality has settled, like darkness around me
A first-time encounter with death and it's toll
Though, how many times, I have played out the role? 

It was always the same.....
Just a game to be played
The drama?  Just kid's-stuff.....who knew what it meant?

Bang, Bang you're dead!...
Point a finger .... he's dead
A stab, rubber swords, ... at my eight year old heart ?
While slowly, with drama, we played out the parts
Our death scenes, .....pretending to take a last breath
Then, back on our knees, and up in a flash
ready again, to reverse all the rules......
Death wasn't real........and never this cruel

Tonight,  driving home 
a deer out of nowhere, 
A thump, and a jar, a flash in the light
And in the dash of a moment, ....a crumpling crash
Make-believe shatters, in the path of our car

Dad reaching his hand, to check I'm alright
Then  opens the door out into the night
Reluctantly I follow his somber silhouette
And met by a moment I'll never forget

The air bitter cold, has taken our breaths
I turn eyes away, but now it's too late
Glass lifeless eyes stare back in the lights
I'm strangled by silence, and the shattering sight
as still and cold, as real as if stones,  
The deer's lifeless eyes, stare into the night
I feel such a change in the stars and the sky
I felt something die, in a child's heart tonight


Carrie Richards
For Trashed #2 Contest: Sponsor: Broken Wings

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
    (Why I'm Still Breathing)

When the cow was dry, she was compliant.
When she calved, she turned vicious
and no fence could hold her,
but she gave milk in abundance,
and Dad refused to sell her.

She chased Mother 'round and 'round the barn
until Mom panicked, climbed the corner logs,
and perched under the roof,
clinging like a cicada shell on a weed-pod.
Beasty pawed and bellowed until Dad came home.
"I could gain on her on the corners,"
Mother said, "because I could turn faster,
but she gained on me on the straightaway."

Plug-ugly tore through the fence,
into the garden, where Mom and I worked.
"Run, Cona Faye, run," my mother shouted.
How did she know? The cow passed Mother
and thundered straight for me. I ran.

At the fence, snorts filled my ears. Hot breath
steamed my back. I saw myself stomped,
pulverized into the dirt. I turned, screaming 
at full volume, and flailed my arms
like a windmill in a strong wind.
That old red cow locked her front legs
and skidded like a freight train on full brake.

I seized the moment, and scaled that rail fence.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
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.

Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Flap your wings and go ahead
Don’t give up & don’t turn back
I’ve gone with you, shown and led
This is for what I’ve been bred
Now it’s come & I shan’t  lack
In mind, in wing, or in back
Ne’er been closer to my life been shed

Lyhgo-Hoyshu waits my come
But already I am numb
He sits high in his castle
We fly on, bright as pastel
It’s rising out of the mist
So high it cannot be missed
Ne’er been closer to my life been shed

I land at his wooden door
You land with me, with your friends
Above me, I see him soar
He strikes down and I have bled
Soon I know it’ll be the end
My claws flash out, sharp to rend
Ne’er been closer to my life been shed

As he dies I know my fault
I’d thought too fast, scared to halt
My chance was up, we were gone
I look at you, you my son
We both know what I have done
He was great and I had none
Now I know my life has been shed.

Copyright © Henri Dahooter | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
(A Fable in a Poetry Form)

Once there was a lively bee
Flying on the lake so free
He stop on a certain flower
That seems to grow each and every hour

He went near and nearer to it
Smeeling every petals so sweet
He turned to it 'round and around
And oh! Then found butterfly on the ground

It lies there as if no life
Under the heat of the sunlight
He flies to it 'round and around
And what's this? the butterfly make no sound.

The bee wondered what to do
He think everything he could do
He tried to wake the butterfly
At last it moved slowly and  tried to fly

"I can't fly"said the butterfly
"My wings are so tired and weak."
"I could help you fly" said the bee to butterfly
"And help you a place and comfort to seek."

But the bee is to small to fly
He couln't carry the butterfly
At last he think a good idea
That'll help them both went above to fly 

The bee flew and went to his place
And called every companions at pace
He came back with the other bees
Carried the sleeping butterfly at peace

When the butterfly was awake
She remembered every moments in lake
She called out for a feast
Invited each and every bees as a guest

Then the lake went colorful
All the flowers bloom from gloom
Then the bees are full of laughter
They and the butterfly unite forever.

Moral Lesson: It doesn't matter what you are and who you are and what's the difference between you and the other person. As long as you help one another, you will live happily forever after.

Copyright © Angelo Faunillo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

He came night after night. I don’t know how long he favored me in such an appreciative manner, but I was most pleased when I realized it.                     

We had moved back into a property that  had been rented out for nearly fifteen years. The clean-up was one tough job, because the back yard was filled with more than a few of 'this, that, or the other' that had to be trashed.  So when my neighborly friend was spotted patrolling my yard one night, I was more than elated and grateful to see him.

He took the same route each night, and we did make eye contact.  But I purposely refused to formerly meet him, because I did not want to become close to him.  So I never bothered to offer him food or drink.

For reasons I will never know, he ceased to make his rounds. During the tenure of that treasured neighbor, the rodents disappeared.  But I’m disappointed with myself for keeping a wall between us.  He deserved better.                                               

Sometimes I feel sad, because comparatively, I gave him so little.  But I must say that I have always been much appreciative of the kindness he shared with me.   I shall never forget the dedication with which the neighborly cat donated his time and served me so faithfully.
04152016  PS Contest, Your Absolute Best 11, The Seeker

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.

Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.

My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered. 

In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised, 
But it is to be called someone, 
Who can be respected.

To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.

Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
I passed a squirrel
on a two-lane back road
that a car had run over
Some rule was broken...

Its front legs scratched and scraped 
at the pavement but it was stuck
like glue, flat on the asphalt
Its head was bobbing
up and down, side to side
(Surely there was no pain?)

Damn it ALL, you little...
Slammed on the brakes 
skidded to the side of the road
made an illegal 3 point turn

Returning to the scene of the crime,
I crushed the head of God’s creation
turning it into fresh buzzard food
turning it back home to its Creator

This creature did not have it coming
This creature did not deserve it 
This creature was as good or better
than me or any other human being

God's child minded its business
God's child never hurt anyone
God's child of Nature's symphony
might have done the same for me

God's child had no clue
it was crossing a road
or even what a road was
but I did…

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
When I went back home for longer vacation Surprised to see our backyard turning out to be a mini-zoo My younger brother had adopted lots of pets Winged, furry, reptiles… I couldn’t name the rest I was spurred to tour around , it was so fun I saw seven cows, five goats, grazing in our farm Geese, ducks, turkeys and various breeds of chicken My mother was there, happily feeding them There was even a big brown snake in an iron cage I trembled, I didn’t even glance or gaze I liked the yellow and black birds, Kiaos and Martines They were learning to talk, one partly warbled, Fur Elise Among his pets, furry ones got my full attention Dino, the monkey was tending cows with our four dogs Holding cow’s ropes, they came to me in wagging tails Then afar, I saw Panny Bat, our bird’s fruit supplier Dino, Doggies Pandak, Poom, Pashang and Pampu Were amazing caretaker- pets in our farm’s mini-zoo Farm heroes, we named them including Panny Who went out at night then returned to her cage the next day I’ve tamed and befriended with these farm heroes I rewarded Dino some lollipops, our four dogs with foods Panny Bat, 'though untouchable was so cute Her face absolutely resembled with our four dogs When I’ve heard the loss of the three farm heroes last year Died of ailments were Doggy Pandak, Poom and Dino Gear And after a month, Panny Bat suddenly disappeared Members of our family, including myself grieved March 6, 2016 10.20pm -This poem was also written for my younger brother who, until now have these pets at home. His small fishpond was not included in the poem. The Kiaos and Martins (look like mynahs) were 5-7 I think. My mom taught them to sing Fur Elise, Do A Deer etc… Fourth Place Contest: Furry Friend Judged: 5/6/2016 Sponsor: Poet Royal

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
The rabbit 
Two houses side by side
One couple had a rabbit
One couple had a dog
The dog loved the rabbit
Was next door all the time 
The couple with the rabbit 
Went away on vacation 
Before they left 
Their rabbit died
They buried it in their backyard 
The dog was very sad 
Dug it up and brought it home
The dogs owners were mortified 
Thought their dog had killed 
The neighbors rabbit 
So they washed the mud off
Fluffed it up and put it back in the cage
When the neighbors returned 
They were astonished 
To see the rabbit back in the cage
All white and fluffy as though never been buried !

Copyright © Tanis Troutman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
The dog looks pleasant, desperate for praise
and attention.
It shivers in the cold, tied to a chair
It cannot go far.
It's owner, holding a cigarette, pours some crumbs from a used bag
A treat for the dog.
The crumbs go unnoticed, for the dog looks up at the passers-by
desperate for praise and attention.

Copyright © Kristopher Curran | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
She curled her tail around her toes,
Covering whiskers, chin and nose.
An ear twitch here, another there;
She claimed as hers the easy chair.

Tormentor of both mole and mouse,
She spent the summer out of house.
Plundered, pillaged, night and day,
No mercy for dim witted prey.

Summer passed and then the fall,
As bitter cold left wintery pall.
The feline wanted none of that;
Once more she posed as family cat. 

She lay about each day and night: 
Purred when stroked and feigned delight.
Her bowl, her chair and toilet place, 
Were all she claimed as sovereign space.

The season wore on long and cold.
Outside most life seemed put on hold.
The feline lay there still as dead,
Entombed within her winter bed.

Come now the spring with days of fair;
The old cat stretched within her chair.
A well placed nose near open sill;
She felt the much diminished chill.

Then rushed to door that still was closed.
Cries from her pleading throat arose.
Weaving through her mistress legs;
"Let me out," brash feline begged.

As chipmunk fed in hemlock crotch,
Unfettered cat dashed off the porch.
With one quick scramble up the tree;
A winter cat she ceased to be.

Do we not marvel at her grace,
Ere all those months confined in place?
The cat resumes with guileless ease,
Her summer reign of fields and trees.

Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
Ana Cecilia Callejas 

Rodrigo Perez Gavilan

The Bad King 

“Lexer” was a lion who was the King of the entire animal kingdom, during his reign all the animals lived in complete harmony, they were all happy and graceful, and Lexer takes care of them and protects them. One day “Lexer” and his wife had an adorable baby lion that was named “Dylan” as he grew up Lexer teached him a lot of things since he was going to be the heir of the animal kingdom. Dylan also made a lot of friends but his best friend was Jim. Dylan and Jim spend almost all the days together, as the time passed Jim started to hang out with the Rhinos, which were the bad ones of the kingdom. Jim turned into a bad lion and started to incite Dylan to make bad things and he became also a bad lion. One day lexer got very sick and a few days later he passed away so Dylan became the king. All the animals were very sad because they loved Lexer he has been so far the best ruler of the animal kingdom. Time passed and Dylan forgot all the good things his father taught him and started to become a bad lion and a bad king. Influenced by Jim and the Rhinos that were friends with Jim Dylan started to do bad things. He put animals to fight between each other just for their amusement and had some of the animals as slaves just to be his servants, he also ordered other animals to kill so he can eat and have feasts, and this caused a lot of panic in the entire animal kingdom. Dylan mother tried to make him reconsider and change, to do all the good things his father taught him for him to be a good king but Dylan just became worse. All this caused that the animals lost his confidence towards the king and started to live just with the ones of their own kind and also began to fight with all the other animals to survive. This caused that the world became a bad place and since that moment the harmony did not existed anymore and the animals had to take care on their own.
Moral of the fable: if you are a good person and you have good values don’t let anyone to influence you and change the way you are.

Copyright © Ana Callejas | Year Posted 2012

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Eddy was a very young elephant.  There was much Eddy did not know.  One day, Eddy felt sad and uncertain.  All of his young animal friends had musical ability and played instruments that made glorious sounds, but Eddy, it seemed, could not.  Try as he might, Eddy could not make pretty music on any of the instruments.  Every note he tried to blow, came out flat.

Eddy went in search of his Mother.  One of the things Eddy had learned was that his Mother could cheer him up and he longed to be cheered.  He found his Mother in a clearing, chatting with her friends.

“Mother, why is music so pleasing?” asked little Eddy.
“Music is a gift,” replied his Mother;
“That brings us joy,” said Ms. Zebra;
“That eases our spirits,” added Ms. Monkey;
“And makes us smile,” finished Ms. Tiger.  

Eddy did not feel cheered, if anything, he felt even sadder.  He began to walk.  Eddy thought, “I cannot play an instrument like my friends, so I must not have the gift of bringing joy, or the ability to ease other’s spirits and make them smile.  I must not be of any good to anyone.”

Eddy walked and thought, he thought and walked.  Eddy did not notice that the sun was leaving the sky.  Eddy did not think about how worried his Mother must be because he had not returned home.  All the walking and thinking made Eddy tired.  He laid down by a pond and slept.

“Rivet, rivet, rivet”, chorused in Eddy’s ears and the constant sound woke him up.  Sleepily, Eddy observed the water.  He saw that each lily pad had a frog sitting on it and that each frog was moving their mouth.  Eddy lifted his head.  He noticed that when a frog moved his mouth, the music, “rivet, rivet, rivet” could be heard.  Eddy felt the need to move.  He heard his own inner-voice telling him to get up and join the melody.  Standing, Eddy lifted his trunk and without even knowing how, made a wondrous, trombone-roar that filled the coming night.

Eddy was so excited that he began to run home in search of his Mother.  Although Eddy was a small elephant, he was still quite large and the very trees seemed to shake as he ran.  His Mother heard the “clomp, clomp, clomp” from Eddy’s running and began to run herself to meet him.  The other animals sensed the Mother’s relief and became so excited that they also ran to greet Eddy.

“Mother, oh, Mother, I am my own gift, my very own gift of joy, to ease spirits and make others smile.  I don’t need an instrument.  Just listen, Mother, listen”, and Eddy lifted his trunk to sound off another mighty note.

“Oh, Eddy, indeed you are, and always have been,” said his happy Mother.

All the animals were so excited about Eddy’s discovery that they held a big parade the next morning.  When the young animal’s marching band went by, Eddy could be seen and heard, sharing the gift of his own special music.

Contest:  Children’s Short Story
Sponsor:  The Seeker
3rd Place

Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2016

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If I could change the world in more ways than presently,
Computers would not crash; nor could they ever be hacked.                           If competition does not increase in both NBA Conferences,
Playoff spots in the NBA would be reduced to 6 from 8.

In the automobile industry, Buyer Beware Rules would be changed,
affording buyers a fighting chance of getting a good car at a fair price.

No dictatorships in Asia or Africa.
No drugs from Middle East or South America.
Political parties would be discouraged in the US of America.
Terror would cease; and nations would study war no more.
Absolutely no one would pay attention to political polls.
The entire planet would be neither too hot, nor too cold.
Every person would live for ever, and never grow old.
The streets in every city would be paved with gold.
And there would be no pot holes on the road.

No nation would be aggressive toward another nation.
Every nation would humanely govern itself as it chooses.
There would exist the purest form of Sovereignty among nations.
Peace will reign from East to West and from North to South Poles.
All transactions would be fair, and nothing would be deceitfully sold.
There would be fair trades between people everywhere around the globe.

Plenty of clean water for everyone, even the birds and the bees.
Medicines would be minimized, and healing would come from trees.
Children would play without fear of pedophiles.
No human would be bartered or bought.
No child abuse or women misused;
No abortions and no rapes; 
No cruelties to any animal,
Including elephants and whales.
04112016  PS Contest, If  You Could Change The World, Dan Kearley

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

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Pussy cats love to be loved To feel the warmth of your body To feel the stroking of your warm hand If there is such a thing as kitty heaven It's when they feel your love Could just as easily be a stranger from the street As long as they can provide Miss Kitty With the love she is so desperately looking for Kind of like us humans, aren't they We most definitely love to be loved To feel the warmth of another body We also call it heaven Except the bit about a stranger from the street Now let me think about that a little more Perhaps I'm a wee bit more selective And then again, maybe not Pussy cats love to be loved And so does this dude! © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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                                       Hear it chugging and tasle
                                         The sun has gone down
                                         Twilight, is still not dark
                                   Small steps ... chugging and tasle
                                         The dog is standing still
                                           Sniffing and listening
                                           Sounds comes closer
                                   A small ball comes out of the bushes
                                      My favorite toy, the dog thinking
                                       Sticking her nose up ..... but ...
                                       The ball is full of sticking spines
                                            it makes a hissing sound
                                     Hedgehog will not play with the dog

A-L  Andresen :)                 - This is my dog "Maya" :))

(5th in the contest)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013

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I stepped on a lizard on new year's day,
then I slipped and I screamed 
and hit my shoulder on the fridge,
toppling the chair,
scaring people at home.
Ahhh, klutzy me on the first day of the year

thinking now,
it is funny, when I imagine 
myself sprawled on the floor.

In all honesty,
it was the thought of
killing the lizard that horrified me,
the act of hurting it

feeling that squish,
bruising that flesh,
breaking the itty itty bones

dear goodness, 
how in the world can I step
on a lizard?!

imagine my sort of relief
to see the broken off tail
on the floor

thank God for survival mechanisms

the tail was still twitching,
another shorter piece fell off,

and yet I still wonder...
Is that lizard alive?
Did it actually make it? 
Is it still hurting?
When will it heal?
Is it traumatized?
Was it pregnant?

I don't know why,
but that last question popped to mind
when I saw the shorter piece,
I even thought it was an egg...

I hope it's ok,
will be ok. I really do.

Sorry lizard, I truly am.


Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2014

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I fly in the sky
I swim in the sea 
I sleep in the night
And in the trees I live

The forest once was my home
That I always cherished
For me and every one
Who lived on this beautiful heaven?

Coming into the flame of fire
Together with my family
Helps me to remember and tell to all
That has caused the dead of all?

Came five days ago
Three to four men
With something in there mind known as the plan
To destroy what was known as our home

Came few men 
After few days
To destroy us all together with the forest
To clear the land

They lighted the fire
They parked some big bulldozers
To clear the trees and removes the stones
After everything is burnt by the flames of the fire

Together with my family
Praying to the god as one
To forgive our sin 
And tell the reason for this everything

Nothing I heard from up
But something from down 
As few men said
For the development, let happen this destruction

Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013

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What My Aunt Taught Me
By Curtis Johnson

He did not have to be so mean to us; but he was
He did not have to make us so afraid; but he did
We apologized for our cow’s action; but he didn’t care

It was the day our cow broke loose and got into his yard
The cow did no harm, but the man’s attitude was odd
I was 13 and well behaved, but staying cool was hard

Daddy had passed away just a couple of months before
Mama was sweet, and my aunt was never far from our door
We retrieved the cow, and went home just down from the store

My aunt taught me a great lesson on that troubling day
It was a lesson about people, planted in my mind to stay
It was about the good, the bad, the ugly; people are that way

My aunt taught me that some people will never change
They are angry and disturbed, and take it out on others
So we have to make adjustments for them, and move on.
02082016 (PS;

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

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             Christy, Christafur  Cat.

Was a southern cat.
His ancestors came from the south of Spain.

His Great, Great, Grandfather was a
venturesome Cat who came across the Seven Seas.

Not Long after that he met another southern 
Cat This one from the heart of Georgia.

As the years came and went History was
 recorded by some other Cats.

To which Christy, Christafur, Cat asks.
Why is that? How do you know that?
Can you prove that? Is that a fact? 

My dear Christy, Christafur, Cat I
really don’t know. You are  such a Loveable
Cat. That is that. YOU CAT!

John H. Hardison..

Copyright © John Hardison | Year Posted 2015

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There was scent of a fire in the call of the wind from a few blocks away, I could smell it today... someone burning a pile, in this first day of fall Leaves and debris, with smoke on the bend It darkened the sky of the September light with fragments of char, as dark as the night It drifted our way, and into the breeze, and it lifted the ash that caught in the fray, bits fluttering down then, onto our lawn, with fringes of gray A scrap from the classifieds, of newspaper ads A fragment, not burned, with a portion so sad just a singe on the edge, on the fringe of my day A scrap now was pending........and I dreaded the end I read someone's query, and my worries were tossed to the smoke-singed sureness, of a pet that had been lost ~ For those moments we had owned her, she was lost and alone Hungry and howling, on that cold autumn day It was a star-crossed encounter, a dachshund we had found We would feed her, and bed her, had asked all around and a with a few passing days.....she had found a new home. Here in our hearts, becoming our own A name we had chosen, she came when we called but today I know, she is not ours, at all... The wind off the river, pushing paper and leaves fragments of yesterday fluttering our way......... Spinning on down, every twist, every turn changing the moment......without being heard Small bitter pieces are coming our way changing small fragments, and the heart of today.

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

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This is the land
known for its unique diversity
You don't have to search very hard,
just look around at the different exotic trees
The baobab and the coconut,
the eucalyptus and the almug
History books have done this place an injustice,
tried to sweep its uniqueness under the rug
But it's truly the animals that make this land a rare place
Search around the world and it becomes clear,
these one-of-a-kind creatures will only be found here:
The rhinoceros,
a real unicorn possessing one mean horn
He has a surly disposition,
it's best not to get in his path
He will trample you given the least provocation
The gorilla,
a real gentle giant, king of the jungle
He has incredible strength
to match his calm demeanor
When passing through his domain,
understand who in the tropical forest reign
The giraffe,
the real guardian of the realm
She alerts all the other animals when there's danger
Has the ability to see things afar off,
it's good to have the tallest sentry standing at the helm
The hippopotamus,
a real river juggernaut
She moves with the grace of a bowling ball ingot
Has the temperament of a smoldering fire,
will rain pain down on you, should you spark her ire
The zebra,
a real zoological rarity
Has those signature black and white stripes
He lets you see him in the daytime,
she lets you see her in the night
All of these one-of-a-kind animals
can only be found in this very special place ---
sweet Africa
Birthplace of the human race

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

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As a kitten,
he ran away the moment
I opened my door,
or saw the bright crack
between the door
getting bigger.

I knew the secret spot he loved
to come and dine;
I put a share of my meals
on that spot each day. As you
expect, he warmed up.

Now we are close buddies;
sometimes I feel as though
I'm in a company of a human,
with its breathing and stare,
as though it knows what
I'm saying or doing.

It rubs my legs with its furry tail,
whenever I return home from work.
I wish my girlfriend acted that excited,
every time she saw me…..

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

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"All animals are equal. But some animals are more equal than others."
—George Orwell
A dozen of chickens and a number of horses, a cat and a raven, a few cows and other hoofed ones—all of which are perfectly silent. Poor wolfie. He can't even find a voice to growl. "Your Honor, if I may request for a short recess," I whisper, humiliatingly like a dying dragon. But my timid voice is drowned by a sly-looking pig's pouring of whisky into Dis Honor's gilded cup. "Have you no respect or have you no eyes?" Squealing, he deafeningly squeals. He reminds me of that scaled wyvern whose head now sits in my living room. It roared deafeningly loud but breathed no fire. "His Honor is having his brief period of refreshment at the moment!" With eyes too dry to cry and throat too hoarse to howl, the defendant meekly weeps. But only I hear it; the jury listens to only the silence, loud as a baby serpent's inaudible hiss, of two semi-digested pigs in his gut. Who on earth build houses with flimsy hays or sticks nowadays anyway? And was it my client's fault that the third genius Doctor Porkchop got killed when some stray earthquake crushed his oh-so-unshakable fort built brick by bloody brick? Just whose brilliant proposal is it again to have Napoleon presiding the trial of the so-called Big Bad Wolf? If only he was a dragon—a pig-dragon at least— I would fain put the beauty that is my sword into good use right now. Countless charges of premeditated murder, culpable animalicide, et cetera. Of course, do sentence us all to another life. I turn to look at the audience right behind me: a mare, a goat, a donkey. A soft motherly neigh followed by an intelligent baa, then by an astute silence. "Please, Your Honor," Ridiculous. This stupid courtesy reminds me of tiptoeing past a mother Couatl guarding her eggs. "Shall we resume—" Slams of gavel. "Objection! Objection! Objection!" Dis Honor oinks vehemently, his mouth reeking of poorly brewed whisky—and I thought Tiamat's droppings were bad. The way he repeats the slamming of his gavel with every disgustingly pronounced objection gives me a headache as if it was my head he keeps hammering on. For the first time, being hit by the Basilisk's tail doesn't sound so bad at all. "Here you call me 'Your Honor Napoleon' in full," Oh, believe me, the honor is fully mine.

Copyright © Adam Adhistian | Year Posted 2013

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It was a glorious day in New Hampshire and I was enjoying the view,
Appreciating nature, and spring's grand debut.
Then out of the window a strange sight caught my eye,
It was a skunk with a bottle on his head walking by.

I called my husband to the window to let him see,
Then he said, "I'm going to go help that poor skunk, and set him free!"
I was concerned the skunk would spray my husband in fear,
But he was determined to save the skunk and to persevere.

The skunk kept banging his head on the ground along his way,
And my husband followed close behind watching in dismay.
He made his move on the skunk in the neighbor's drive...
I would have loved a video to catch that live!

He grabbed the skunk by the bottle and flung with all his might,
Then the freed skunk went flying, and must have had quite a fright.
In his hurry to avoid the inevitable spray,
My husband took a tumble trying to make his getaway.

He came home in pain but grinning from ear to ear,
He had saved that poor skunk, not able to eat or drink, with death near.
My husband suffered a torn rotator cuff from the unusual incident,
But God speaking to him to save that skunk was not a coincidence.

Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016