Best Animal Poems


Premium Member The Squirrel

~My Nutty Squirrel Poem~

Up in a tree, on a branch
Now you see me, now you don't!

Sneaky and fast, I'm adorable
Now, why would you hunt or shot me for fun?
Do you like, how fast I run?
I'm not just another chipmunk 
Stuffing my face with nuts,
I'm classy and beautiful, 
The  best  part  of   nature.....

Red pointed ears, I hear you drawing near.
Chuckle, chuckle, caffeine free
I saw you looking at my fine coat.
Fluffy and curious, touch me and I'm Calling PETA!
See YA---  Life Is Beautiful!!!
I'm stuffing these nuts back into my mouth 
and Jumping onto another tree :) The End
........
Love The Squirrel from another World.  
Love LINDA

Premium Member Campfire

CAMPFIRE 

I thirst to taste your solid wood stare
I see you and no one else 
Nestling under the stars
Hungry for each others ears

Chasing every comet across the sky
Fierce when it comes to standing tall
Desires releas screams from the mundane night
Running naked throughout the world
Firewood burning the depth of our soul
Dancing in a path we put mortals to shame  
A swarm of gray shade arousing the night
Secret moans before,  morning dew hit sunrise

Prowling in circles
Feeling each others instinctive curiosity
Surrender to the ashes of our hide  
Passion lost within a dream-catchers web.

A pack of thieves we long to be
Weaving into an echoless growl
No one dares to separate the pack we create 
A stare of solid wood I hunger to taste. 

Night after night, IN THE MOOD ~always

Premium Member African Anthology

walking gracefully  
with a pendulum movement ~
a herd of giraffes   

the mass migration
crocodiles at the river~
food for the taking

gazelles are running  
a hungry cheetah gives chase~
speed is the winner  

a lone male lion  
approaches a sleeping pride~
the battle begins  

an elephant herd  
arrive at the water hole~
use trunks to cool down

a swarm of locusts
devouring vegetation~
skeletal branches  

army on the move 
soldier ant battalion~
have left a scorched earth

vultures in the trees  
animals weakened by thirst~
death is imminent  

a downed buffalo  
lions watch as herd returns~
bulls scatter the pride  

basking in cool mud
the african river horse~
hippopotamus  

laughing hyenas  
find an unguarded carcass~
scavengers feasting  

at the water hole  
animals quenching their thirst~
alert for danger  

a crash of rhino  
hunted for their ivory~
extinction looming  

a small antelope  
found on the African plains~
cute looking dik dik 

the baobab tree  
silhouetted at sunset~
african icon

Written 13th May 2018

For best haiku poetry contest

Sponsored By Chantelle Ann Cooke.


Premium Member Avian Legos

...to the finessed fowl
humming by my ear      tell me
Did anyone ever tell you
just how glad they are
to have you here?

Poignant eyes, azure crown,
that lightasapenny frame...
(how monstrous we must appear!
our human eyes like soccer balls)
We have only God to blame...

...and our senses to thank
for perceiving such a lovely scene
right here in our midst:
organic motors in a danceswirlblur,
taking quicksips of wine
through a toothpick straw
(do I need to make a list?)

Well, how about this:
pleasantly economical,
tenderly blue-breasted,
(quicker than a shuriken star?
you guessed it!)

And O how I would shield you
from anything that came your way
My palms would be your perch...
My fingers be your bars...

But alas, none such as you,
could ever be cast into a cage

(for the angels would rage!
and even the most committed readers
would surely turn the page)

But rest assured
I wouldn't dream deprive you of your feast
of purple watermelon splendor
(those pretty pearls of amethyst
are yours to conquer!)

O Caffeinated Contraption...
O Sweet Dream of Buzzing Thoughts...

You could be crushed like a pop can
at the flippant cruelty of man...

      ...but who would dare?

blasphemy to merely think it,
'twould be an acceptable breach of free speech
to burn the words that expressed it

(fly free, oh sweet heresy,
into the ashen breeze)

"There's nothing more beautiful than you."
said the God
who placed each feather in
with such gingercare
and thoughtful pause--

(His Cosmic Hands caught
in the Avian Lego Jar,
smirking at the plasticity
of His own laws)

Premium Member Music To My Ears

Effervescent elation arises and dances to ancient echoes; the rhythm of the drums heartbeat.  
Champagne notes bubble into the night sky; night music of Gaia’s children is music to my sleeping ears.

Ethereal flutes singing to the crickets, 
usher me into the dreamtime and there I awaken; 
an ancient being, I heed the call.

I drum along; wings beating out the chorus; 
I dance in skies of cotton white fluff. 
Drums intensifying, crescendo as, 
Native Voices sing my name.  
I am king Thunderbird and my subjects saluting me…
music to my ears.


Written 2-14-19

Premium Member Band of Bunnies

As the sun appears from its winter hush,
earthy meadows now appear green and lush.
As its refreshing rays begin to peep
animals awaken from their deep sleep.

A band of bunnies hop to spring's delight,
dancing among flowers yellow and white.
With small fluffy tails and ears soft and long,
seems like they're dancing to a secret song.

Naughty rabbits nibble on tender shoots
and chase each other in joyful pursuits.
Skipping around lawns that need to be mowed
It's the happiest they've been since it snowed.

Their antics may not always seem funny,
but it must be great being a bunny.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Whilst Walking Through the Woods

Whilst walking through the woods one day
A crystal brook there, shone so gay
The sun was shining oh' so bright
As brook reflected all it's light

Buzzing insects all around
Oh' they made a delightful sound
Birds flew upwards to the sky
These parrots made a hue and cry

Carpet of flowers with lovely scent
It seemed this morn way heaven sent
The flowers opened to the sun
This walk for me was so much fun

Sheep bleated from far away
Oh it was such a lovely day

Premium Member Jesus Was Turkish

A strange claim
Of a man of passion
Of kindness
He said
Let the children come to me
For what man would refuse the smile
The innocence of a child
He parted his kindness
His wisdom
His love of all tribes
Animal and man, felt the kindness of his eyes

His tears grew this world
His voice made all of us listen
He made fisherman, philosophers
He made masons run free
He sang to ladies of the night
With the wine from wells of passion
Caliphs and Abu Nuwas soon followed

Love belongs to no one tribe
No sect or religion
It’s the flower that seed's travels the globe
Like feathers floating in the wind

When you see a child with no food
A woman with no smile
A man with no home

You make a balloon or funny face
You grow a rose
You build a hut

Trust in the kindness underneath
It will kiss you on your death bed
You shall rise to the heavens
Knowing

You loved the universe




Notes: This is one poem that for sure can be peeled like an onion. First of all, I am working on a poem based on historical fact, and documents from the Vatican, that will serve no other purpose than to tell an age old story. Yes part of it takes place in current day Turkey.

Second, I have a friend who resides in Turkey, and we met over the internet, and over the years, have become friends. I know him to be kind, to all people and animals. We are simply friends that have shared stories, laughter, and hardships at times. Whether someone  lives next door or half way around the world, true friendship and honor is hard to find. You can not give it or receive it. You can only both earn it over time.

No man is perfect, we are what we are, but when you see a world in turmoil, as we do these days, maybe this small event or moment carries weight. I myself am not so nice. So then I must say this, My friend Volkan is, not to me, but to countless people. A smile and kindness costs nothing, and the world needs more of this richness. 

Everyone these days talks of how technology is ripping apart society and this may well be true, but this is a choice we all make, technology is merely a tool. One can also use it to build bridges and friendships. 

Normally I would be shy to give such praise, however events have taught me that, its better to speak good words than be silent.

Thank you, for helping building a better world!

Premium Member Peacocks and Predators

The raptor and the peacock hence,
Sit pensive on a rambling fence.
The first, inclined to be the host,
Jumped down to claim the nearest post.
The pea averse to snubs or quailing
Moves closer on the weathered railing.

Both immersed in trailing thoughts
Mused on nigh, and what was naught.
The Pea fans its tail in public splendor
Cramped raptor prefers an opposing gender.
He clasps a plume of gleaming thread
To implant it on his own stark head.

On and on, a grueling day
Feathers plucked; cold work at play.
Peafowl’s once featured feathered shafts
Now forlornly bare and subject to draft.
The predacious bird, a cocky thief
Snidely at par, to a native chief.

Clips of sun reveal a shadowy bane
The unlikely pair cast as one and the same

Premium Member A Winter's Tale

Biting winds and swirling flakes of snow had finally abated

We surveyed the deep drifts, which lay on the fields
The silvery moon peeped through the clouds and lit our way
It was bitterly cold, but the pitiful sound of bleating spurred us on
Some friends and neighbours had joined us – we had no time to lose!
Grabbing our spades we worked tirelessly throughout the night
Digging out the sheep and tiny lambs one by one
Their fleeces were matted with tiny icicles
As dawn broke we had rescued all but one of our precious flock

Suddenly our trusty sheepdog Shep started barking
We trudged to where he was frantically pawing at the snow
Our hearts lifted as we pulled the final sheep out alive
At last it was time for us to return to the farmhouse

In the distance I could see gold and silver lights sparkling
and scintillating on the Douglas fir tree in church in the village.

I raised my eyes to heaven and gave thanks.

A Winter Poem
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton

Required words
silver, gold, sparkling, flakes, icicles, drifts and spades

12~02~16

Another Day Safe From the Harvester's Jaws

Out of the burrows and hedges and dreys
Heads began bobbing and eyes were agaze.
Rumours were twittered and grunted and squealed:
‘The combine is coming to harvest the field!’
The moles and the voles and the rabbits and hares
All hurried and scurried and scattered in pairs.
The hedgehogs and ladybirds, pheasants and shrews
Did all that they could to distribute the news.
Then all made a dash for old wise badger’s sett;
The only safe refuge in face of the threat.
There, in the deep hollow they felt the vibration
They shivered and shuddered in great trepidation.
The thrumming and thundering monster machine
Soon passed overhead... and then all was serene.
And out of the hollow came heads, tails and paws
Another day safe from the harvester’s jaws!


 Most recently entered into 'Your Best Rhyme Poem That Is Trophy Worthy Contest 3 Poetry Contest' sponsored by Tania Kitchin - 05.10.19

I chose this poem because not only is it one of my personal favourites, but to this day, I've no idea where all these little creatures came from! Written early on in my poetic endeavours, it made me appreciate fully the amazing powers of the imagination!


'A rattling rhyme contest' sponsored by Nina Parmenter
12/08/18

04/12/18
'I cannot believe I wrote that Poetry contest' : sponsored by Nina Parmenter

Your Choice,Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest : sponsored by Brian Strand

Black Beauty

Black like a rare diamond.
Perfectly sculpted.
White as a snowy peek .
Reflecting off the glistening waves.
Your beauty and grace challenge us.
Mostly free, we morn for your captured brothers.
Gliding and leaping through the blue.
Chasing your soul mates protecting your tribe.
Your song is herd for miles deep.
Echoing on the icebergs.
You are magnificent, alluring.
Teasing us with your glance.
Swim far Orca be free

Premium Member She Wolf

My nostrils sniff the air seeking,
the various scents tantalising.
Then I smell the bison and throwing
back my head I howl to my pack.

The bison start to panic and flee
as we follow hot on their tails.
Distant between us shortening at 
each stride I pick a young bull.

Going in for the kill my mate joins
me and together we bring him down.
Helped by the pack his death is quick
tonight we all eat and I will have milk.

Returning to my lair I settle down to
nurse my six hungry cubs. Knowing only
too well that tomorrow it will all
happen again if we are to live.

09/02/2018

Premium Member The Zebra Mystique

I want to ride a zebra

   and race the rays of radiance
       through heat-waves’ sailing gradients -

     a folly wild - a mood untamed
   elated hands in bristled mane
unbridled veins uncorked champagne...

   yes! elevate sedate heart rate
     I WANT to ride a zebra

        stripes yin yang oasis sweet and
          whimsy rules a drumroll beat as

        gallop sways euphoric roughness
      crossing plains of dreamy lushness -
    steed’s exotic tender toughness
  pacing thrills in state of luscious...

yes! animate to sate my wait
   I want to RIDE a zebra
 
         savanna grass a grand expanse
            a lion’s roar - hyena's rant 
          amuse myself with peril’s speed
     adventure sows romantic’s seed... so

         gestate date with fancy’s fate
YES! I want to ride a  Z E B R A !

Premium Member The Gun Shop

The gun seems gun-shy in this space;
where deer hides hang on rustic walls
and granddad-tick-tocks beat, instead
of hearts in hollowed skins. The gun

 a “trophy-bagger” in its rack, 
 a loud-mouth predator at rest,
 this motherless, brother-less thug
 perceives no pity-pangs... the gun

now quiet, buckshot empty, cold. 
Above the stove’s phoenix soul hangs
an antlered head with prideful tines
the man, with bear-paw hands, had won.

A fox in freeze-frame-trot, a stiff 
with cat glass eyes, attests his prize. 
Indeed, like litterfall they fell, 
unseen his haunt in hunter gear, his gun

a junkyard dog of steel. I say
they're beautiful in life. He says
they’re beautiful in death. Between
our words — a stand of pine — the shot!

that brought the shock of ammo air
that rib-cage-ripped and broke the breath,
that hurled the crows against the sky —
the blast that felled the 10-point buck that failed to sense your goddamn gun!

Yeah... blame the buck his reckless pose
and buckled throes. You felt the king!
Behind tight trees you sat with dawn
in sniper-silhouette. The gun 

felt nothing; no remorse, no joy
—it, too, hangs upon the wall.

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