I went to Peru
And found a kangaroo
I tried to take him to a zoo
But then I found him in my room!
Now he's my pet
Jumping like a jet,
Oh how I regret
Ever taking him to my flat!
Copyright © Elena Pisani | Year Posted 2016
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
Six shots rang out loud
Woke the jungle calm
My trained tiger hit
Landed on me hard
Good thing I am fat
We both could have died
10/16/14 Earl Schumacker - DESIGN YOUR TABLEAU – Poetry Contest
“You become responsible forever for what you've tamed.”
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
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
(Even If You Are A Cat Person This Applies To You)
When I say to move it means go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two dogs in the way.
The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food.
The other dishes are mine and contain my food.
Please note placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and my food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a race track.
Beating me to the bottom is not the object.
Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king size bed.
I'm very sorry about this but do not think that I will continue to sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort.
Look at videos of dogs sleeping. They can actually curl up into a ball.
It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out with tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space used is nothing but doggie sarcasm.
My compact discs are not miniature frisbees.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom.
If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open.
I must exit through the same door I entered.
In addition, I have been using bathrooms for years;
canine attendance is not mandatory.
Lastly, the proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dogs butt.
I cannot stress this enough.
It would be such a simple change for you.
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2017
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
Today loyal friend they put you to sleep
So I sit all alone with memories of you
No more could be done your life to extend
You fought the brave fight right to the end.
I remember how I rescued you from the pound
Brought you home watched you run around
Your funny antics and crazy ways
Lifted my spirits on my darkest days.
How do you farewell a beloved pet
And tell your heart it must forget
Right now I know you can't be replaced
Feelings are raw in my heart you're encased.
Grown men cry when they lose a pet
They grieve the unconditional love now lost
It's hard to find such loyalty and trust
Many tears flow before they smile again.
I buried your ashes beneath the tree
Where you used to dig and hide bones
I wear my mask I really try
But each time I think of you
My heart begins to cry.
Copyright © Cecilia Crasto | Year Posted 2017
Soft as mist,
in shadowy silence,
sure-footed, steady, she
searches me with steadfast eyes,
sparked, it seems, by latent lightning,
smoldering still with sultry enchantment,
she stealthily leaps now to my lap, sitting
sweetly, safeguarding unfathomable secrets.
Copyright © Carol Mays | Year Posted 2017
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
Throw on her sweet roses for in quiet she reposes,
for her heart was so very tired- I had to let her go
but she will live forever in the mazes of my heart.
My very best friend and my sweet kitty cat,
she wanted so little in life but gave lots.
One happy day I will enter heaven,
and find her waiting for me.
This is my prayer, Lord
November 16, 2012
Lyric/In Quiet She Reposes
Copyright Protected, ID 436418
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2012
When I was just seven, so small
My best friend Jacob, outdid us all
He had a pet Cobra, cool as could be
He forgot to feed it for a whole week you see
So I killed him
When I was fourteen, I went to the zoo
So many animals, all lounging around
Some seemed starved and some seemed week
One poor zebra died right on its feet
So I killed a Zookeeper
When I was twenty one I met a young blonde
We dated and loved and times where great
Her pet Collie so youthful with such playful traits
She left him in the car, the heat at one hundred and eight
So I killed my girlfriend
I am older now, a full mature twenty eight
My neighbor Miss Jennings has a cat we call him Mate
He loves all the felines all over the town
Till Miss Jennings had him neutered the Mate is down
So I killed Miss Jennings
Now I am thirty five and working so hard
At the animal shelter as the night guard
They bring in the wounded, the week and defenseless
All these humans who treat pets with out any senses
So I killed few strangers who mistreated pets
I am forty-two and work for the park
Where they come every day walking their pets after dark
In leashes so tight and bound round the neck
How is the good? Oh what the heck
So I killed all of them too
Now I am forty nine and in county jail
For some serial crimes they accuse me of committing
All I did was love animals, who are they kidding?
I am the hero in this story you all must see?
So I escaped and killed the jailor and now I am free
I have read the local papers; I am on the front page
They want to put me in a prison cage
Oh and there is PETA, who claim me as Saint
I am so proud why I might almost faint
But I kill myself as my final act
To be with the animals I loved till the last
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
Me and the boys went fishing,
Little dog in tow.
"Charlie Brown" went everywhere
The five of us would go.
We were having lots of fun
Until we hooked our pal.
He swallowed a wad of stink bait
Treble hook and all.
Mama cut the nylon line,
We saw it slip away.
The vet said, "Keep a watching,
It might pass some day."
We followed him for three full days.
He ate a lot of grass.
And then, what do you think we found
Passing from his ass?
Charlie was our buddy.
Our closest, dearest friend.
That treble hook looked just like gold
Passing from his end.
Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2010
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