Best Critter Poems
Up in Colorado, in the forests of Pikes Peak
A cranky critters conference was held just this week
It was led by a mouse, 3 legs, whiskerless & without tail
"Against a common foe!" He said "We must Unite! We must prevail!"
He hobbled out to the edge of the woods & pointed toward a house
In that house, I once lived a good life, a young & healthy mouse
Then one day the rancher's wife decided she'd had enough
I will say she is a worthy adversary, Mercy she was tough!
He looked around at all the critters, weasel, skunk & squirrel
& said "I hate to admit it but I was bested by a girl!"
Its true, I escaped alive but she got her trophies, too
For I left my tail, paws & whiskers stuck there in her glue
The squirrel spoke up in a streetwise Brando voice
I'll accept the challenge! For this mission, I am the best choice!
I know this lady well, having enjoyed seeds & nuts out on her deck
I am not afraid of her & will show her we deserve respect
So the squirrel plotted & waited until the time was right
He saw his chance & took it while in the birds she took delight
He scampered up a pine tree & scurried out on to a branch
While she was distracted with a phone call & a pretty bird, he seized his chance
He took a flying leap, landing square on her blond head
Taking great delight in her squeals of surprise & dread
He then let loose with a torrent of the defecation sort
"That's for all the dead & walking wounded!" was his parting retort
The moral of this story, for one there must be
Is be mindful of avenging squirrels when you sit beneath a tree
Six sick skunks of one stinking litter
get startled by a fox; five of the six sick skunks scamper.
But one of the six sick skunk siblings is no quitter.
In spite of the fact he is the littlest,
there's not one thing that will this small sick skunk hamper.
A skirmish with the frisky shifty fox he starts.
Just one of those six sick skunks is a no-chicken critter.
The litter’s runt snickers as backing up in the fox’s face, he farts!
Jan. 18, 2020
For Nina Parmenter's Twist My Tongue Poetry Contest
Old Jake lived a mile or so below the falls.
He wasn’t a hermit, or any other sect or sort.
He was just an old man; though always alone.
Well, except for the critters.
They were not remarkable, just - - -many
and they all adored old Jake.
He didn’t even have to feed them.
Only gave them what they needed most---love.
Oh, the whole crowd needed companionship!
Or, so it seemed.
That one small cabin?
A six hundred pound bear is a bit much!!
least in my humble opinion.
Then consider the raccoon !
The sucker fusses and complains
all day, all night twenty four-seven.
The covey of pigeons were good about cooing him to sleep
but ‘twearnt worth NO dad gum roosting on the porch rail !!!!!!
Geez!! The hose is not long enough
to drag around to the front steps;
much less scour that whole rail “on and under it”,
the whole width of the house--every day!
That fox!! Slick as a whistle and he will lie
in a skinny minute--
And we have yet to find any sign
of the gone gosling !
Who else would do such a thing?
I know every family has problems, but most can
be fixed with a little think through:
common sense and resolve.
Let’s all work on it----who knows?
One might find, that the powers which be, can take a hint from
the common man for a change.
‘stead of vice versa.
While camping up high in the trees
I woke up one “mourning” to pee
Thought that I heard a “bare”
But it was only a “hair”
Who was eating my breakfast with tea.
Written on 3/21/2016
Forget all you’ve heard about horsepower
Hamsters can take you six miles per hour
Running a wheel neath the hood
No oil needed, all is good
These critters can snooze during rush hour
An entry for the Eco-Friendly Vehicles contest
A slim handsome ogre named Vampire,
married into a fairytale empire.
His elfin wife named Hairy
bore him a sharp toothed fairy,
That looked like a Hobbit from the shire.
Much to the elves’ and Ogres’ chagrin,
they bore an impish child again.
This time being on a roll,
they bore an impish troll,
and now all the fantasy creatures are kin!
(inspired by Debbie Guzzi's contest)
Stalking,.....waits awhile
She inhales the woodland airs.....
Animals beware......
Nose to tail the vixen stares.......
Fixated,....... her prey beguiles.....
What was it that ravaged last night’s lovely blanket of snow? Something with three toes on one foot and missing one of its very large nails. My god, the size of those back paws! A black bear, no doubt; a midnight, black hole in space, black bear; checking out my trash bin but, there’s no damage. It must not have been very famished or it would have turned my bin into puzzle pieces. Had I been outside I’d have been forced to face the treacherous beast; perhaps I’d be in the hospital now with a half-eaten arm and I do so, hate hospitals. What if it comes while I’m walking my dog? It could eat both of us! A dog that’s lived as long as my Roger doesn’t deserve such a horrific death; how dare a bear devour him! What’s that? It’s him, the bear; why didn’t I buy a gun and learn to shoot? Why don’t I have any bear spray? Perhaps I should’ve added that extra life insurance? There he is, the...oh he’s just a cub, a little fellow...he’s so cute...
Nature’s children are
Quite diverse and we must share
This planet freely.
Pop a critter in your mouth,
Its all you get for lunch.
A big juicy bug
on which you have to munch.
You know you really wanna
take a nice big bite,
if you do it fast enough,
then the bug wont fight.
Wash it down
with some fluid
that really looks quite vile,
After that,
you wont want to eat
for really quite a while.
A fly flew through the kitchen window, I was frying,
He was big, fat and very black,
He nonchalantly settled on the drying rack,
No doubt had followed the aroma of food, uninvited prying,
With tea towel and fly swatter, was armed and eyeing.
Flew closer to the gas burner, unafraid of dying,
Both of us ready for deadly battle,
He would certainly not live to tattle,
There got you, but as hard as I was trying,
He was edging nearer to the liver I had frying.
Searching with his compound eyes, he found an aperitif filler,
A small onion, his taste-buds now craving,
My anger now increasingly scaling,
Then with the prowess of a tactical serial killer,
Lashed out with the tea towel, wiped out the critter.
There is a limit I can be pushed to
If driven to it, could I kill ?
Last night I found out
As I was undressing
I felt I was being focused upon
The intruder's cold stares froze me in terror
My heart threatening to pound right out of my chest
We both stood deathly still surveying each other
The battle lines were drawn
I felt like a lion cub about to hunt his first gazelle
It was Man against Cockroach
The beast was hoping to make it to the safe refuge under the bed
If he succeeded, Chances were slim
Suddenly, he made a dash for it
I lunged for the closest weaponry, a sneaker
But he expertly dodged and swerved
On my second strike I connected
He was trapped within the grooves of the sole
I could sense if I moved the shoe, he would dart out and be forever lost
There was only one option - Chemical Warfare
I ran out into the hallway
And grabbed a can of ant spray
I marched in and began to plan my next move
I circled the shoe a few times, evaluating the best angle to approach
Strategy was key and I did not want to rush into it
Once decided, I took aim
With a deep breath I quickly lifted the shoe and started spraying wildly
But the wily bugger was quicker than I anticipated
He zipped out and managed to make it to the bed
But just as he disappeared, I nailed him with a squirt between the wings
Wounded and disoriented, I hoped he would now be an easy hunt
I hurled the bed aside and he was cowering besides a dumbbell
We knew these were the climactic seconds of the battle
He made one last brave but feeble run for it
I unleashed the pesticide with adrenalin induced Herculean strength
The departed was lying belly up in a pool of poison
The duel was over
I used half a roll of paper towel to lift his remains
And carried them at arms length to the trash
The other half to scrub the floor, in true Lady Macbeth fashion
Till the stain and smell were gone
"My Rationalization fails to transmute this event into something positive"
The pantoum’s a loathsome critter
Pantoums missed out on getting class
they’re so twisted up and bitter
each one knows its first will be its last
Pantoums missed out on getting class
you can tell Pantoums lack feeling.
Each one knows its first will be its last
they’re so very unappealing
You can tell Pantoums lack feeling
and they don’t have too much glitter.
They’re so very unappealing
the pantoum’s a loathsome critter
Pantoums aren’t wisdom, love or joy
And they don’t have too much glitter
They’re some misanthropic sod's foul ploy
The pantoum’s a loathsome critter
I was walking down a Vermont road
to stretch my legs and blow off stress,
stone walls flanked the hard, brown dirt,
half-obscured by dead leaves and grass.
When a fast rustling caught my ear,
I turned my eyes left to see,
exploding over the rock wall
came a flustered, frantic turkey.
He sprinted hard on spindly legs,
and it noud gulps gasped for breath,
then crossed the road and disappeared,
the cause for it not revealed yet.
Then suddenly, from the same place,
a majestic buck leapt in,
blowing hard, half-exhausted,
but the stag kept up the sprint.
Had he sent the turkey running?
This I thought as he bounded clear,
then I asked what had spooked him,
started the running of this deer?
Just them a large, robust black bear
streaked hectically onto the ground,
I froze in fear at this bruin,
he must’ve weighed three hundred pounds!
But this bear didn’t notice me,
he panted hard and was afraid,
followed the buck into the woods,
what could cause this panicked race?
Suddenly a sprinting hunter
dashed out onto the dirt road,
big rifle there in his hands,
a threat that smart animals know.
But he kept running, half-shaking,
giving me not even a glance,
what, I say, could put to flight
a fully grown, well-armed man?
Next, in a burst of braying,
came the hunter’s big draft horse,
his shoulders taller than I stand,
weighing two thousand pounds of more.
He was sweating profusely,
charging on with a heavy gait,
taking off after the hunter,
into the woods to make his escape.
I stood stunned and wondered
what could this all be about?
Then scurrying onto the road
came a tiny, harmless mouse.
If sniffed a bit, then disappeared
underneath some dead, brown leaves.
Had this rodent triggered the horse,
and started this whole crazy scene?
I just rolled my eyes at it,
Then kept walking on my way,
to think that such a tiny thing
could cause such a strange cascade…
he comes in moonlight
prowling the neighborhood
looking for dinner
stopping by to check the cat's bowl
watching me through the window
carried them away
gripped ...... between her teeth was how
she has moved her cubs.....
safer place..... away from harm.....
she knows....when danger lurks near
nose sniffing the air ...
the scent of a male is close.....
he will kill the cubs ......
so he can have his wicked way ...
even if they are his own....
She hides them away ....
not a whimper must they make .....
or .....they will be found ....
the lioness breathes deeply ....
willing to die to save them ....