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Best From Here To Timbuktu Poems | Poetry

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Details | From Here To Timbuktu Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Critters

They call me Elly Mae 'round here,
For my critters are so many.
I love 'em each and every one,
And couldn't part with any.

You see, Tommy, he's the eldest,
Grumpy through and through.
Course, eighteen years as a cat,
Would make me grumpy, too.

Our dog, Grover, he comes next,
Protective you might say.
No matter how bad his arthuritis,
He's beside you all the way.

King, he's our hunter,
A faithful black and tan.
He'll stay hours on that tree,
And wait for fellow man.

Tacoma rounds the cattle,
Too smart for his own good.
He gives high-five, goes to time-out,
Probably talk if he could.

Kali, the calico kitten,
She sleeps with me each night.
She's my little shadow,
And insists she's always right.

D.T., she has mood swings,
Double Trouble is her name.
A great big mare with high spirits,
Need I more explain?

Rebel is the stud,
With a heart so pure and sweet.
He has that southern hospitality,
An attitude that can't be beat.

Gabriel is the baby,
He is now three months old.
With D.T.'s ***** and Rebels heart,
His sights are untold.

At last, we have Scooby,
The riot of them all.
Bucks from here to Timbuktu,
And thinks he's twelve feet tall.


Copyright © Alana Tye | Year Posted 2005


Details | From Here To Timbuktu Poem | Create an image from this poem.

December

December comes in lustily
On whirling winds of joy,
Bringing from corners of the world,
Dreams of the ultimate toy.
For each of us is a child at heart
During this magical phase,
We each believe in Santa Claus
These anticipatory days.

The coniferous trees are fruiting
With twinkling lights galore
And every house upon the street
Wears a wreath upon the door.
What is is about December,
Like no other month of the year
That makes us love one another
And fills our hearts with cheer?

Hot chocolate for the carolers
And cookies for our neighbor.
We're in a baking frenzy 
And we call it blissful labor.
We're sending packages of love
From here to Timbuktu.
No Scrooges are to be allowed
'Til January bills come true.


Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2009