Best Whisker Poems
After a long day of work, Mrs. Whisker
Heaved a sigh, and perched on her comfy chair,
Held Earl Grey in one hand, book on other
An heirloom tea-pot right beside her.
After a long day of work, Mrs. Whisker,
Flowers on the vase, delightful they are!
The antique clock sweetly chimes the hour..
The standing lamp lights brightly for her.
After a long day of work, Mrs. Whisker,
Shiny yellow curtains she did admire!
Dreams of a future when she would retire,
Rest beside window, enjoy for ever!
After a long day of work, Mrs. Whisker,
Lovely books would be fun to share!
What a heavenly bliss that would be!
When she will invite all her friends to tea!
Her favourite picture, she loves so dear,
A painting on wall - tranquil nature!
Moment to cherish, moment to treasure,
After a long day of work, Mrs. Whisker!
Picture 1
His name is Pea Whisker Son, and he is my best friend.
He is a deal breaker if you want to keep me ‘til the end.
But he has that weird habit of popping out of the hat.
He surprises me with that time piece, and he likes to chat.
I never get a moment in the kitchen to call my own.
And his ears are getting longer, they are truly overgrown.
Pea Whisker Son said nothing, but his feelings were hurt.
He decided to slip out that night but he would take his friend Mr. Kurt.
Mr. Kurt was an alarm clock, and they would take the playing cards too.
He knew the couple would be sad the next morning, unhappily blue.
But weirdly enough, he could not leave the hat at all.
He tried several times, and the hat rolled down the hall.
He ended up in a closet upside down on his head.
Whisker Fever had suffered a really horrible, angry, bad day.
He had not gotten the Kibble he wanted. His master was way.
Creature he’s left him with was too prissy and stuck-up to like.
He would have pedaled away if he had been left with a bike.
“Oh, Whiskers,” she cooed, in a saccharine voice, irritating him.
She had a tiny bit of oatmeal stuck firmly to her left chin.
“Where is my big boy?” she crooned, like she was a friend.
If he had an axe, he would have given her a swift happy end.
“Where are you Honey?” she asked in a voice meant to please.
He hid in the smallest cupboard, a place his body could barely squeeze.
Tonight when she was asleep, he had a diabolically wonderful plan.
He would dump all her fish, watch them twist in his hand.
Then he would gulp them up and spit out their heads.
Their eyes would go buggy showing their last moments of dread.
Whisker Fever was angry as all get up, and wanted to leave.
But then she brought home catnip, and renamed him King Steve.
With resolve in my soul
I went after the resilient whisker
On the left side of my old chin
He has been removed three times
But he is back, to torment me.
I could not believe he was here again already.
I think t plucked him last Tuesday.
This whisker’s visits are more frequent.
Each time he arrives bigger and bolder.
He was three inches long last week.
Today he lands on my chest, about eight inches long.
How did I not notice him until now?
I look for my tweezers.
I need the giant ones.
He is as thick as a boat’s tow rope.
They did not work, so I tried scissors.
Then I ran to get my butcher knife.
Hmmmm
Where is my axe?
I lived seventy years without having whiskers
but then one popped out of my chin
it was thick and long
tweezers bent when they tried to pluck it
the whisker laughed at my attempt at removal
he was tough and determined to remain in place
he has been imbedded in my chin for two years now
it will be three at the end of the week
I put tape on each side of this stubborn whisker
and cut through the tape
expecting to hear him scream
the whisker howled, not in pain, with laughter
I grabbed a razor
the whisker snatched it out of my hand and threw it against the wall
I am pretty sure I am not winning this battle