Best Coons Poems


Premium Member Garden Pests

'Tis another glorious spring and I planted my garden with the expectation,
That I shall reap a bountiful harvest for my table with minimum frustration!

I planted the usual stuff - carrots, radishes, onions and termaters,
Watermelons, peas, corn, beans and a few hills of russet pertaters.

With the Good Lord's help, lots of sun and occasional showers of rain,
The seeds sprang to life along with some curses that are my infernal bane!

I've discovered that I have a healthy crop of weeds that need attention,
And a host of other intrusive visitors that I'll proceed to mention!

I was dismayed to discover legions of caterpillars and mealy bugs,
Pruning my plants along with hordes of ugly snails and slimy slugs!

They're even being attacked from below by gophers and moles,
And from above by crows making diving sorties from the clothesline poles!

'Coons, 'possums and wabbits at raiding my garden are very deft,
And armies of well-disciplined ants are gleaning what is left!

I even caught some nasty little kids filching a watermelon last night!
I chased them but those little dudes took off with the speed of light!

With a storm of wind and hail this morn I saw all my labor disappear!
Come next spring I think I shall opt to sit on the patio and guzzle beer!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Premium Member Raggedy Weeds

Raggedy Weeds Poem
                                                            

   Here is my poem on weeds, not the kind you smoke. 

Raggedy Weeds ?

Have you ever really looked at a weed
Not at all like the beautiful flowers from seed
Angrily, we pull them from our gardens
How dare they take over without even a“pardon”

Petunias, Zinnias, Daises, Roses as red as a flame
Weeds, have you ever bothered to know their name
Tall ones, short ones, all shapes, and sizes
Not at all like our lovely plants that win prizes

Walking across the field on an autumn day
A rainbow of color glistened along the way
On closer view, it was grasses and weeds
Not beautiful flowers from seeds

Should I dismiss their beauty seen from afar
Scraggly looking up close their splendor did mar
No, look in and out of the weeds, butterflies flutter
Silently, no sounds do they utter

Alighting on raggedy stems with tiny flowers
Their sweet nectar they love to devour
Some of the weeds are mashed down
What is this that runs the weeds to the ground

A home for rabbits, snakes, possums, and coons
Usually, only seen under the light of a full moon
Could it be that weeds survive 
To give honey to bumble bees for their hives

To provide animals food, protection, and a home
To enable them on this earth to still roam
There are some destructive weeds that are concerning
Realistically, we have to be discerning

Weeds neither work nor toil
Still God finds a place for them in the soil
Some weeds should be pulled indeed
There are others that provide a need
                                                
So today or tomorrow, really look at a shaggy weed      
Try not to compare it to a beautiful flower from seed
Seek the delicate flower among the raggedy leaves before you moan
You may discover a purpose and beauty all it's own

Seasonal Sigh

Finished vines
waving limply in the wind,
tangled streaks across the hillside.

The Autumn Earth
conceals eternal motion
under a carpet of many colors;
a fluid carpet that flutters and shifts
beneath my feet;
a noisy carpet telling the story 
of my presence.

Frost-bitten flowers
broken by my passing touch
salt their pollen on the wind;
a gooseberry shrivels
against the bark of a naked bush.
The black bear and the coons steal
each other's dens,
and bees, lethargic,
cuddle on the combs.

But why?

I know why---
scientifically, astronomically--
the earth and sun fly elliptically
and space dilutes the energy.
But still i cling 
to the burnt orange leaves,
savor the last unsquashed berry,
dreading the day
when my worn winter jacket is not warm enough
and my breath freezes
and my legs hurt where my boots rub.

The frozen rain clings in crystals
to tired trees; snow glitters like shattered glass
and cold sunlight assaults my eyes.
I close my eyes against the glare
and listen to the moaning wind,
and dream of a world
where Autumn gives birth
to Spring.
© Karen Ruff  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Gifts of the Night

Faint stillness of the night falls swiftly down 
and masked raccoons now pillage darkest night. 
Fluffed owls with sparkling eyes are flying free 
and rabbits, gently moving, sniff the air... 
The hounds - from hunter lost - do bay and whine! 
Marked deer with spots or racks go pawing trails 
and bear cubs ramble near a sparkling stream. 
Uncommon moths blink near the lights outside 
and possums scramble up the hillside earth. 
Soft light of moon obscures the beauty there 
and adds romance to this nocturnal scene. 
Amid the forest’s trees of pine and oak, 
these charms display the gift of God’s design! 

Faint STILL-ness OF the NIGHT falls SWIFT-ly DOWN
and MASKED rac-COONS now PIL-lage DARK-est NIGHT
Fluffed OWLS with SPARK-ling EYES are FLY-ing FREE
and RAB-bits, GEN-tly MOV-ing, SNIFF the AIR
The HOUNDS, from HUN-ter LOST, do BAY and WHINE
Marked DEER with SPOTS or RACKS go PAW-ing TRAILS
and BEAR cubs RAM-ble NEAR a SPARK-ling STREAM
Un-COM-mon MOTHS blink NEAR the LIGHTS out-SIDE
and POS-sums SCRAM-bles UP the HILL-side EARTH
Soft LIGHT of MOON ob-SCURES the BEAU-ty THERE
And ADDS ro-MANCE to THIS noc-TURN-al SCENE
a-MID the FOR-est’s TREES of PINE and OAK
these CHARMS dis-PLAY the GIFT of GOD’S de-SIGN

©by Regina Riddle
Written on July 29, 2014
Re-written for contest on July 30, 2014
Re-written twice for contest on July 31, 2014 – with LOTS of help from 
sponsor and much thanks to Roy Jerden
For: For Newer Poets: An Exercise in Iambic Pentameter - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Roy Jerden

I deliver newspapers at night on a rural route and see all of these nocturnal 
creatures along my journey… the origins of the poem.

Contest Winners Page

There once was a contest winners page.

I heard that it was all the rage.

People would go there to see,

If they had sweet victory,

But, it's been gone for a coons age.

Premium Member Strange Relationship

Now the feline and the masked loony coon.
They steal the deal when they enter the room.
The raccoon and the cat, rat-a-tat-tat. 
Fire station seems to be where they are at.

A pair of cuties you see, plain they be,
of all things to be, they’re fireman, you see.
Cat has pulmonary resuscitation… 
coon has CPR certification. 

Raccoon many days saved the cat’s nine lives,
working pair like spouses never they strive.
Cat to raccoon, “We need  to marry soon,
there is talk around town you Loony coon!”

Raccoon to cat, “I’ve carried you today,
guess mixed relation is given away,
oh say can you see our children to be,
rat-coon-cats or loony-tune-cat-coons, see..

We’re unlikely pair, guess people will stare,
know not how our mixed relation will fare,
we’ll chatter and purr showing them our fur,
then chatter the matter up fire ladder!” 

For Francine Roberts 
Contest: Tell Me About It!


I Can See Clearly Now

there was these woods as a kid that always gave me chills
                        full of trees and rocks,ponds and hills
                        there were more things lurking that in the forest 
                       snakes hanging from trees ,wolves howling in chores
                        
                        i couldn't help thinking that those were unholy grounds
                         always feared entering due to frighting sounds
                         then there was always this bonechillin breeze
                         constantly have you thinking that someone was hiding behind the trees
             
                       at night you could hear the different monsters as they creep
                        listen closely you'll hear the pounding sounds of giant feet's
                        just the dreary darkness gave me quite the scare 
                       so i never cared to know what was really out there
                       
                       but here i am i'm back now 
                       and i must overcome my fear of those woods somehow
                        just one more fear , i know i can kick it 
                      and i found out those woods were just some thickets
 
                      alot of tall grass and a few smalls trees 
                     and those snakes hanging were just funny looking leaves
                      i geuss i imagine all those creepy sounds
                      for there was nothing but coons and dogs running around
                      
                     there were pine cones falling and the flapping wings of birds
                  and  that small creek cant be all the water i heard
                      well i guess those woods don't scare me like they did 
                 cause i see much clearer now than when i was a kid!!!!!!!!

Premium Member Maine Coon

For my sister, Sami, because this morning one of our four Maine Coons suddenly and unexpectedly died...

Haughty snobbish tomcat
tap water trample cat
never inside brat
inferiority complexity
acrobat
My Maine man
My Coon, I didn't expect
you'd go so soon

***

June 3, 2017 
Copyright © Darren White

Ol' Wes, Ol' Craig and Rocky

While cleaning my house one night,
I heard a noise outside real clear.
I looked out the door and to my surprise
Ol’ Wes, ol’ Craig, and Rocky was there

These little varmints, are varmints indeed,
Three pesky little coons.
They live to investigate what’s on my porch
Those silly, silly goons.

I shooed them away by stomping my foot
But they sat there and looked at me.
Those crazy coons went and made me mad
That was Wes and Craig and Rocky

One of these days, I’ll have revenge
Revenge on these coons, you see.
I’ll get so I can outsmart them
And they won’t outsmart me!

Premium Member New Sheriff In Town

There is a new sheriff in town and he’s a Maine Coon of course.
We had tried a duck, a fish, a llama, a cobra, a spider and a horse.
We watched the Maine Coon strut up and down showing off his star.
He was spitting tobacco, and it landed way off, very far.

The Maine Coons make the best sheriffs in this high noon town.
They never put up with any shenanigans up, low or down.
We saw that this one looked as slick and as wise as the other one.
The sheriff who ended up dead from a mean outlaw’s gun.

Premium Member A Hodgepodge of Cat Footles

The Rodents’ Bane

Sphynx cats
jinx rats

A Most Unlikely Scenario

Shorthairs
court bears

Cat Catalogers

Shorthairs
sort wares

When Cats Go Formal

Bombay
Prom Day

Tranquil Lost Feline

Calm stray
Bombay

Detain the Cat

Waylay
Bombay

What Gangsta Cats Do

Rag Dolls
Snag Molls

A Cat Oration

Birman
Sermon

The Howling Sensations

*Main Coons
Feign tunes

Wet Mongrel Cat

Soggy
moggy

Sept. 15, 2022 
for a Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest

*Note: This is name for a strong, large longhaired cat that is also very sweet. Maybe it's only known about in the USA??

Premium Member As Viewed From a Bat's Lair

I fly out of my lair
  to land in your hair
You brush me off
  as if I weren't there

Yet now you're infected
  though you've not suspected
corona flu injected
  no symptoms detected

You've invaded my home
  stripped the land of my food
I'd have left you alone
  'cept for your turpitude

Of rural China we speak
  and the West, it does shriek
regarding sinister plots
  but that's all for naught 

For as you too encroach
  on habitats you poach
from skunks, 'coons, and mice
  Please know that head lice --

will seem mighty nice
  compared to the plagues
that are heading your way
  in a trice

Premium Member I Was the Goon Who Chose the Raccoon

The horses’ lacy white petticoats and ribboned pantaloons
Were kicked almost as high as a delightful orange harvest moon.
The anger came from the big burly brown baboons
Who were left out by the snotty uppity raccoon.
I felt like an uninformed ridiculous goon,
Because I had assigned the notorious snotty coons
The task of doling out the petticoats and the pantaloons.

Poems For Trump Number 50 Cousin Donald

Cousin Donald Comes to Town ...

Elroy was all cock-a-hoop cos
cousin Donald was a-comin'
a visiting & they were so darn
chuffed & tremblin' in anticipation
that friday night the seven of them
in the one bed had a real problem
actually sleeping.

Ma got out the best crockery
& had it laid out on the flag
hoisted down from the old
post by the front door &
Jebediah had just come back
from huntin' with some real
dandy lookin' coons.

As Eula was busy a-skinnin'
& all the clan was gatherin'
in their finest quilted smocks
& threadbare suits usually
kept for best & courtin' on
Saturday afternoons.

Cousin Donald's limousine
had a problem gettin' up
the windy road so Sam &
old Benjamin were carrying
him along in a sort-of-home-made
palanquin constructed from
pine poles and a large
crate that mama usually
reserved for storing the
winter jams & pickles,

All the boys started a-hollerin'
& a-whoopin' as Cousin
Donald turned the corner
& his loud Orange face
broke into a broad slightly
deranged grin for he knew
that the moment would soon
come when the shine would
flow & they'd get down to
some serious jigging &
fiddlin' but of course he'd
not be the fiddler on account
of his tiny fingers & innate
inability to be able to learn
one damn thing at all.

Cousin Donald restored in them
that pure American ideal of being
able to make it big in this world

& they all told themselves that
if Cousin Donald could do it they
could too meaning a golden
crapper & shiny brocaded
curtains & silver toothbrushes
& diamond watches & silk
drawers & leopard skin pill
box hats.

Oh Cousin Donald inspired them
just so oh yes he surely did & this
day would be re-told over camp
fires and cross-burnings for months
no, years to come,
... the day Cousin Donald came a
visiting.

Oh so blessed, blessed day
& thankyou Sweet Lord Jesus,
thankyou.

My Daddy

GGH 1917-1991

He worked so hard to provide
Baling hay and plowing
Hauling hay to the barn
Feeding cows or sowing

He never seemed to tire back then
He always found time to play
Hunting ‘coons or riding horses
He loved to do them both

Playing games on a winter’s eve
With the youngest pair of us
He loved to watch sports on tv
Or his kids in a high school game

Music was a special thing held dear
He played harmonica so sweetly by ear
He would often entertained us all
The sound of his music I can still hear

He was tall and thin and very fair
Which his farmer’s tan kept hidden
Blue gray eyes with a twinkle bright
A grin spread across his face

He loved his children and his wife
But nothing could compare
To when the grandkids came around
You should have seen him then

He took the time to know each one
Playing and talking with them
He was their Papa don’t you know
And Papa loved them so

In his later years he read God’s word
With the Bible across his lap
He worshiped every Sunday 
With the church and sang God’s praise

The man I am writing about
Went home in ninety-one
My Daddy was quite a man
I wish you could have known him

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