Best Dog Days Poems
We let down the top to soak in the sun
Now that the harshness of winter is done
As you let back the seat and put your feet on the dash
Saying, “keep your eyes on the road I don’t want to crash”
I truly must admit that I’m torn completely in two
The coast has its beauty, then again so do you
As the beauty of the Sun is absorbed by your skin
Like a kid at the candy store I simply want to dig in
If life is a candy store sweetheart you are the treat
All the other candy I tasted, never tasted so sweet
The reason I love summer is because of the heat
The skimpier the bikini, the greater the treat
I can’t begin to express how wonderful you are
Saying, “hey take a look at her I’ll steer the car”
At first I truly had no idea what I should say?
Though now it’s, “ok sweetheart, have it your way”
I think that is because you know these words are true
I may take look at her but I shall forever belong to you
Summer is a time that is as bright as the sun
Out goes the cold as it’s replaced by the fun
We have our barbecues and sit under the stars
Let down the tops and go for rides in our cars
Go tend to our gardens in farmer John clothes
Truly amazed at how fast everything grows
Go hang out at the river as well as the lake
Cover ourselves in oil than let our skin bake
Embrace the moments because these words are true
The days last much longer and the sky is so blue
The dog days of summer I reckon that’s so
We bark and howl at folk we don’t even know
If life is banquet then summer is the feast
I think we should gobble it up, to say the least
Written for john's Summer contest.
Dog Days Endure
Sirius, rising with late summer sun,
Dog star, your timeless tour has just begun.
Sweet sultry lazy days beside the lake,
These precious waning days of swimming fun.
How I'll miss the warmth this season bestows
As romance dwells in soft full moon that glows.
I will miss the ducks that soon will fly south,
I'll miss my sandals baring naked toes.
Atavistic admiration will buy
These glorious last latent days from sky
Until autumn breezes in with her chill
And I will welcome hues and will not sigh,
For each season has beauty that's unique
With shades of glory in milieu mystique.
Each a blessing progressing to the next
Till then, let dog days gift the joys I seek.
9-29-18
~8th Place Premiere Contest~
Contest judged 12/1/18
(A Rubaiyat is a Quatrain with a rhyme
scheme of AABA, CCDC, EEFE, etc.).
Sponsor Gregory Richard Barden
On the first day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, pee-pee under my tree
On the second day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the third day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the fourth day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the fifth day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, five gnawing rings... four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the sixth day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, six tails a wagging, five gnawing rings...four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the seventh day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, seven toys a singing, six tails a wagging, five gnawing rings...four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the eighth day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, eight days of milking, seven toys a singing, six tails a wagging, five gnawing rings...four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the ninth day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, nine walks of prancing, eight days of milking, seven toys a singing, six tails a wagging, five gnawing rings...four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the tenth day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, ten bones he's keeping, nine walks of prancing, eight days of milking, seven toys a singing, six tails a wagging, five gnawing rings...four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the eleventh day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, eleven barks of griping, ten bones he's keeping, nine walks of prancing, eight days of milking, seven toys a singing, six tails a wagging, five gnawing rings...four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
On the twelfth day of Christmas my doggie brought to me, twelve new puppies coming, eleven barks of griping, ten bones he's keeping, nine walks of prancing, eight days of milking, seven toys a singing, six tails a wagging, five gnawing rings...four stinky turds, three bone ends, two licks of love and pee-pee under my tree
Dog days pass slowly
air is thick but there ain't no
miracle waitin
funnel cloud on horizon
and we’re still in Kansas, friend.
August days bring sweltering waves of heat.
Lethargic breezes fail to cool our
sun baked bodies, so we languish,
praying for relief ... perhaps
a refreshing rain ... How
I long for autumn,
but for now the
dog days of
summer
reign.
8/6/13
A reversed etheree
delightful dog days
aroma of summer rain -
inherits our joy
Sleeping cavalier
Draped in Blenheim silk
Russet red reflecting
Autumn’s fiery cloak
Dozing, snoring softly
Dreaming dog days.
In his mind Orion’s
Hound ignites the sky to
Mark the changing season
Autumn burns the wood
From green to red to gold
Summer’s over.
Playful cavalier
Tracking leaves and berries
Falling to the touch of
Autumn’s sweet enchantment
Barking at the shadows
Chasing moonbeams.
Autumn stains the dawn with
Hazy blue and crimson
Noble cavalier
Stretching, yawning softly
Gently bouncing homeward
Dreaming dog days.
The sun is buffed to a shine:
and songbirds still sweetly sing.
But the dog days of Summer:
are on a steady decline.
Leaves maintain a shade of green:
and roses are in full bloom.
Yet, as temperatures drop:
Nature starts changing the scene.
The crops ripen in the field:
Fall harvest's fast approaching.
And though ever so subtly:
signs of Autumn are revealed.
There's a chill in the night air:
Summer's slipping away fast.
And daylight hours are shrinking:
though it all seems so unfair.
Wild geese honking overhead:
have begun to migrate south.
And squirrels stop eating nuts;
burying their hoard instead.
Tinted leaves will shortly fall:
to be scattered by the wind,
And when Autumn colors fade:
Winter's white will blanket all.
sunlit beams soak through
gilded clouds glisten brightly
rich flora sheds crown
DOG DAYS
The heat of summer keeps coming after me
Like a dog hounding me to a sweat
Growling with thunderous fury before the storm
Lashes my face
If I run from one place too hot
He trails me to my cooler lair
Dogging my heels
Panting, tongue out, I reel in torture
Can’t shake him off
...................................................................................................
Note
This is all about my hatred of hot weather. I just live for the arrival of winter.
The title is an expression meaning very hot days, referring to the idea that the sun
is in the same part of the sky as the brightest star in the sky, Sirius, the “Dog Star”,
and the two shining bodies supposedly produce extra heat.
From June (when the summer has just begun)
till August, I sizzle under the sun.
I bathe underneath it, soaking it in,
and even in fall, I will not be done!
The first days of autumn cannot defeat
my unbridled passion each day to greet
sun rays still blazing in autumn’s blue sky.
Through Indian Summer, I relish sweet heat!
Dog days of Summer, don’t give up on me.
Keep on through October, for I will be
basking in sunshine as long as I can -
and were it possible – eternally!
Written Sept. 30 and posted Oct. 1, 2018
for the 'The Dog Days Endure' Poetry Contest of Gregory Barden
the wicked dog days
bringing unforgiving drought
and sweltering heat
Haiku Poetry Contest/Winner(3rd Place)
Theme: Summer
Sponsored by Mik Talbot
Date written and posted: 05/23/2018
The sky is cracked tonight. The moon slips through and the clouds dance across her slender back. I’m hunkered down here for the night in an arroyo filled with pain and I wait for her.
Knowing she will never come. My fingers lift the sand and I let it pass between them thinking about time, time that runs out. We are all just passing through this place. But I keep waiting for the sun to cry and the crow to fly. My passion has no anger. I lost it a long time ago on an island filled with Amazons.
I see myself walking and turn around and face my shadow to see if it knows me. It’s always there even at night. It just doesn’t show itself. Scared of the dark it trembles at the light.
I crawl up the canyon wall, rocks and dirt crumbling and falling to the floor on this lonely place I have brought upon myself. Sometimes I wish that I could bend but I’m the other kind.
Someone told me once that if you’re in a hole stop digging.
I’m not digging I’m climbing towards a light that doesn’t exist. Even a dog has it day.
Tomorrow perhaps I will have mine.
DOG DAYS… (or when my wife was in hospital)
Dog days change the way you think about days
some days you feel their paws dig into your dream
other days when she’s home you feel fine
and that everything’s
oky doky tra la la
her touch ,the food she cooks, hits you in
the heart like a power tool
but
when she’s not there the
days drag on like prison time (or shopping)
dog days steal your insides the way
Gulf pirates threaten to machine gun
you against the hull wall
and
when she comes back
it’s like the marines rescuing you
so you kiss her boots and beret
make her tea
and pretend that everything’s been OK
and that you haven’t missed her
(but) your eyes give it all away
oky doky tra la la
The days slowly slumber in summer's liquid heat,
and flowers lie comatose in parched cracked beds,
as two bluejays squabble in bellicose tones
raging over baptism in a
twelve-dollar-ninety, nine-cent birdbath.
Duke naps in freshly dug dirt beneath
once green shrubs, with ears twitching
away pesky flies, and I, in manly khaki shorts,
and a Sooner T-shirt contemplate
tug-of-war with garden weeds, but opt
instead for a brew down at the bar.
Dampness feels like a gauzy veil on my face, and
I inhale the faint smell of tobacco
as if wafts through city crowds,
while loud notes leap boldly from apartment windows,
and steamy mirages waver, then disappear from
hot asphalt streets.
With shoes that slap my heels with each step,
I climb upon the barstool at Joe's, and order a draw
with my cap on backwards, I watch the game...
I am cool.