Long Catnip Poems
Long Catnip Poems. Below are the most popular long Catnip by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Catnip poems by poem length and keyword.
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.
''Like Ice Cream''
Having ice cream with you,
Brightens the entire portrait in my youth.
Like catnip for a cat
-- the Reese's fun never stops!
Like monkeys in a zoo, above a tasty sherbet treetop.
Ice Cream with you!
How sweet, the imagery of 31 different treats
Cold butter and salty Placid water, with the works
Amaretto peaches, and slushy sauce --- twerk
Dandelion haven- above a marshmallow rocky road
Fireflies flicker around the fresh Lemon Drop Sky
A delightful sundae breeze on the crest of my tongue
Soft frozen chocolate dessert, nothing can go amiss
Ice Cream with You!
So many to choose from,
Savor the delicious flavor
---of Butterscotch homemade rum
There's no other place I'd rather be
Lost Inside this forever hazel mint joy scenery
The ultimate indulgence in one icy bite
A cream coconut cherry delight
-served on the side with apple pie
In a cup, on a cone, my vanilla waffle boy
Everything-- about-- you-- roams free
like tubs of ice cream dreams
Listen to the sound of soft sprinkles cinnamon
The happy feeling that melts when you're around
I'm packing a giant scoop of Ice Cream from your heart
Adoring and Embracing Life
Every time you say the words
...I love you...
:)
MEOW! cries Merlin the Magic Cat,
As he pulls magic out of his hat!
POOF! A lady Siamese appears!
PURR-they scratch each other's ears.
POOF! A service of catnip tea spread.
PURR-Sip and smile, no meows are said.
POOF! A coach with gold roses on it!
MEOW! "Mer" reads a Shakesphere sonnet.
PURRING loudly, as she smiles at him,
POOF! Eight horses await his next whim.
POOF! Two coachmen arrive ln thin air!
Reining the horses, they await there.
PURR-Will she or won't she take his arm?
He's barely begun to show his charm.
POOF! She accepts and they ride away!
PURR-Magic occurred one summer's day!
September 29, 2022
For Merlin the Magic Cat poetry contest
by Mystic Rose Rose
Couplet
I have a cat that wears no hat;
though her paws do love to bat,
her mice and balls,
all through my hall.
A clever cat,
a feisty cat,
I made her a nice catnip rat;
my hyper-active tabby cat.
A cat with tail all poofed and fluffed;
her claws are never, ever rough;
they’re so sharp and needle-like;
my god, they’re really more like spikes!
All through the night she bounds and plays;
sometimes in a catnip haze.
All day long she’s in a snooze;
fortunately, she doesn’t drink any booze.
I know she’s been on my computer,
looking for a kitty-suitor.
The claw marks on my keyboard tell,
without me hearing her collar bell.
Her favorite website, “Kitten Caboodle”;
actually sells tuna noodles.
I know because my credit card,
had more than thirty orders charged!
A confrontation did ensue;
she wound up with her ego bruised.
Pouting cat took paws that bat,
took out her frustration on catnip rat.
I tell you honestly,
I tell you true;
be grateful she doesn’t
belong to you.
Written 3-7-19
For Contest: "Honoring Dr. Seuss Poetry Contest"
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
Countless generations lapsed since height of Greco-Roman mythology conceived, birthed and populated vast canopy of sky and expanse of terrestrial firmament, whereat obeisant propinquity quintessentially remains stalwart this day and age as guise dolls dote demonstrably come Valentine’s Day, when Cupid plucked from the quiver, notched in bowstring and launched Eros tinged arrow induces love struck swain to swoon upon a lassie fair, whence fecund female feast proliferates progeny.
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bona fide hormonal hankering didst since Adam and Eve a wake
aromatic, balmy, and captivating as effect from drinking sassafras
kin powerful pulsations viz diving rod erect phallus
creating con fusion pro bono er to enter lips engorged mass
Pussy swathed qua tangle of coiled, kinked, and thatched course grass
Willy wonka with vestal virgin hair line gonadal zone **** embarrass
twig and berries rutting, rusticating, routing and romancing intent
to deflower re: piercing hymen
with nary immune to perdition or déclassé
hello kitty edenic tropic of cancer coital compass
emitting pheromones culling asper a bong
clapping banging brass
intractable supremacy reproductive sport
waging whore with contemporary take
verboten fruit sexual pang thrust forward
omnipotent magnetic thirst to slake
unstoppable passions flared unfazed as annals
depict how hot coals feet did rake
despite hollow religious strictures obloquy,
the serum filled genitals did quake
infiltrate historical manifestations, naked humans
prey zing clear or opaque
deities of yesteryear demonstrable
bas relief showers copulation doth make
primal urges imbued *****sapiens
e’er since first man saw lady of the lake
triggering libidinal longing inducing salivation sans love struck drake
multi-tiered mouth watering orgasmic gastronomic carnal cake
Aphrodite spellbinding storied sport thrives inducing heart break
imbuing human guys gals feverish enthralled dizzy catnip behoove ache.
Such a commotion this morning on my lawn
Way out, so I had to get closer to see what it was
At first I thought someone had left a bunch of colorful equipment out.
But then I noticed it was fast-moving, like blowing, rolling litter.
As I got close I saw it was sixteen cats playing football.
Wearing bright neon helmets of all different colours.
They wore jerseys too, with numbers, all ending in nine.
In honor of cats having nine lives I suppose.
They did not know much about football though.
Every one of them was trying to be the quarterback,
fighting over the ball, no defense whatsoever.
And why were they all wearing different colored jerseys and helmets?
I sat in a lawn chair and watched. Wondering about this weird game.
It was not a football. It was a giant catnip ball.
They were all rolling and jumping. A feline frenzy.
They had so many pile ups, I began to laugh.
None of them noticed. They were in the throes of the catnip catch.
I gave them a wide berth, returning a few hours later to pick up their debris.
Most of their jerseys were off. Some were still wearing helmets.
They were lying in an upside down huddle, in a variety of contorted positions.
I tiptoed away quietly.
Not wanting to disturb their cat naps.
Masked and disguised, my first grade teacher, Miss Chark, kept her true identity under wraps one hundred and ninety-two days a year.
She liked sunlit naps, the smell of catnip, but most of all, to be left alone in front of a glowing snapping orange fire with a huge bowl of salmon.
What would the parents say if they learned the truth?
Less than three days before she appeared at the Board of Education office, she had mysteriously awoken from a Saturday night cat nap, and noticed that not only was her tail missing, but she had
turned into an enemy, a fur-less human!
Miss Chark could neither read nor write but no one knew that. She did not have a teaching license, but no one checked.
Luckily she knew English, even though she had never spoke it before, and she knew she needed money to buy herself food. We children loved her and taught her how to read.
Mr. Poindexter, Mrs. Chark's new pet cat has a serious moral dilemma. He has the heart of a young boy mouse, but the taste buds of a cat. He only liked cheese and peanut butter yesterday, but this morning his tail had grown long and fluffy, and he no longer liked his mousey things.
There is a thin line between real and pretend, and you, Miss Chark, and you , Mr. Poindexter, have fallen into the Twilight Zone
Wondrous frangipani...
You mesmerize me so.
Like a fan, I twirl you
Between my fingertips;
Striking yellow-white hue!
Wondrous frangipani...
You're the most eye-catching
Of all the spring flowers;
A captivating sight
After April showers.
Wondrous frangipani...
Beautiful as a tree;
Lovely in women's hair.
Stirred by a gentle breeze,
Your scent wafts in the air.
Wondrous frangipani...
Catnip to bumblebees;
Hordes of butterflies, too.
Show-stealer in gardens;
Gift to a day brand new!
All April In Monchielle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich
Theme: April Flowers
Date written: 04/19/2022
You can't worry while you're staring at a sleeping cat. By Poet.
I'm Speedy, a Persian kitty ruler with blue topaz eyes.
My letter, tragically, finds me in my rough litter box.
My paws tear shades, hit beautifications, and climb trees.
My mom's feline needs an automated sparkly world litter box.
It expels all my bathroom-related clutter.
No expansive sums of pixie tidy for me to breathe.
My paws won't be throbbing and burrowing through the rubbish.
As I've hit the pooch a couple of times a year, I'm on the dulcet list.
But the rare calfskin chair, I utilized the scratching post.
I do not retain in mind the vanishing of the Barbie doll's head.
Goldie got by thumping Mama's goldfish around.
So, send me the automated super programmed litter box,
Catnip, laser toys, mouse toys, and thread are all options.
I'll strive not to scream and jump on your chest this year.
You surprised me the last time I was totally sleeping.
I'm sorry for guzzling your milk and peanut butter cookie.
Yours surely faraway,
Speedy...The King, the head of said family
meow...meow..meow
2nd Place Contest Winner
Written June 3, 2022
Personification- Pets Talking Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Emi is a little black cat
Who knows quite a lot
For instance, she learned one night
That angels hang stars in the sky
The moon is made of catnip
And trees tell stories
When the wind whispers in their branches
Emi knows
That sunshine was made to tickle
A kitten’s belly
And grass makes a soft carpet
For tired paws
If you promise to keep a secret
She will tell you that Pocko
Is in love with Maisie Cat
Norman ate the last ice cream cone
And Moo hid the red ball under the bed
Emi knows about birds
And wishes she could fly like her friend
Jack Robin who comes for a visit every afternoon
To eat worms and share stories of his travels
There’s Maggie Magpie and her family
Who come for tea and a bit of gossip
When Emi is lonely
She is indeed a wise cat our Emi
Who knows quite a lot