Long Pawing Poems
Long Pawing Poems. Below are the most popular long Pawing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pawing poems by poem length and keyword.
kute and kuttlely
anty and so kuttery
Little Litty Lilly
Loty Lolly likes too
Likes to chew
The dawg bones
When I come home from the office
Kitty Pearl drinkin' at the kitchen faucet
kute and kuttely
Yellow and buttery
Little Litty Lilly
Loty Lolly likes too
Likes to untie and nipple shoelaces on our shoes
Here kitty, kitty
No~ wait to stop that
Scat cat for heaven sake Kat sitting on my hathat
the condescending, contented cat sat on my hideous, hilarious hat
While Little Litty Lilly Loty Lolly still pawing and gnawing my shoe latches
7/9/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
A TRUE STORY.....(honest engine!!) This is fine country living !!
__________________________________________________
T'was the night after New Years, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings and tree stored away with a sigh
Finished the last drop of eggnog, and the last piece of pie
Ma in her kerchief, and Pa in his cap
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap
When the phone by the bedside made OH! Such a clatter!!
That I woke in a daze, to see what was the matter!
Neighbor Dan on the phone....he needed some help!
I laughed when he told me, in spite of myself!
A cow's in his pool....so chubby and plump!!
He needed strong arms to help haul out that big rump!!
Rushing over,...to my wondering eyes should appear
There's Old Bessie in water right up to her ears!
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof,
Old Bessie was frightened....she had made a big goof!!
Friends ran to the rescue, and went straight to work...
Taking care that poor Bessie wouldn't get hurt.
They put heads together and laid out a plan,
Tied ropes 'round Old Bessie as fast as they can.
Then hooked to Dan's truck, and gave him a whistle
And up came Old Bessie like the down of a thistle!!
She shook from the cold like a bowlful of jelly,
So they patted and prodded, till she rolled on her belly.
Then off ran the cow, with relief and so merry,
Her cheeks a bit frozen, her nose like a cherry!
We were offered hot chocolate to warm up again,
Four o'clock in the morning, and was time to turn in!
Our neighbor called out, as we got out of sight
"Happy New Year and Thank You! And to all a good night!!"
-------------------------------------------------------
See?? Country living isn't as boring as people might think!
It was Christmas Eve, not a soul made a sound,
And not so much as a mouse could be found,
The children had hung their stockings on the hearth,
As a quiet, peacefulness gently fell upon the Earth,
My family were all asleep, their heads full of dream,
Of Santa's arrival with his eight reindeer team,
Father in his nightcap, slept soundly in bed,
And Mother in her nightgown of green and red,
When all of a sudden I heard a commotion,
And jumped out of bed with a curious notion,
I ran to the window and pulled open the curtain,
I thought it must be Santa Claus for certain,
New fallen snow shone bright below the moon,
Giving the illusion of daylight in mid afternoon,
I looked out my open window despite the cold,
When a sight met my eyes, wonderous to behold,
A lively, old gentleman aboard a great sleigh,
With eight tiny reindeer leading the way,
As quick as a bolt of lightning out of the sky,
He called to each one as they rocketed by,
"Now, Donner! Now, Vixen! Now, Dasher and Dancer!,
On, Cupid! On, Blitzen! On, Comet and Prancer!,
Leap up to the wall and onto the rooftop,
Dash away all and let us make our first stop!",
They flew through the air with much ease,
Like dry autumn leaves on a sudden breeze,
The reindeer landed so smooth and swift,
Along with Santa and a sleigh full of gifts,
I heard their hoofs pawing upon the shingle,
And joyful laughter from that old Kris Kringle,
To be continued in Part 2....
But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children
come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God
belongs to such as these.”
—Luke 18:16 NIV
WHAT’S HAPPENED TO JORDAN
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that a kid with sideways horns, pawing hoof,
saw the masses using imperfect tongues
with elbow grease, praising God with their lungs.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that letting the children come, is no goof…
that glancing behind, the aisles were well lit
with eyes and ears saint-bright; faithful, tight-knit.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof.
He pounds on the drums. He’s raising the roof.
He concurs with youth. Ears incline to him.
He married Wisdom. They’re verve is a hymn.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof -
though he stumbled, God made him shatterproof.
And as the saying goes, “God don’t make junk.”
No whiskey in hand - only Spirit-drunk.
What’s happened to Jordan? He’s living proof
that his progeny, raised right - not aloof.
He’s raising young men with Christian morals.
Hero, on white horse, unsung with laurels.
Pretty, tawny, tabby Tabor
purring snuggler,
full of curiosity and play
He saw the door ajar for a fast getaway
His golden eyes gleamed
Jail break; as he dreamed
Ditching out as fast as a jet
The backyard pond he couldn’t forget
full of lily pads and Koi. ”Oh, what fun!”
Sneaky pitter-patter paws sly as a cat “I’ll take one.”
Tiny tadpoles hiding under the lily pads away from the Koi
A little twitch happy tail, pawing, splashing the cool water to catch the Koi
From out of nowhere showed
Kung Fu tempered toad
pounced on Tabor’s back. “H-i-s-sss......!”
Feeling frustrated and foiling his plans couldn’t catch him now
Tawny tabby Tabor taunting tiny tadpoles and tantalizing tasty tempered toad
11/22/2016
Hellacious howls tickle and titillate
the trompeleil scene
in the pastel Court of Kings.
Flamboyancy rings as the
fluttering coo of a rapiers dance in the hands of fops,
through the high ceilinged corriders of castle in the chill air
buzzing past the ears
of the mischievous lillipitians, yearning,
egging on yearlings with antiquated filigreed foils.
Ludicrousity runs riot
trolloping in fandango-clicks of hooker-red
across the quilt-stitched batten puffed blazers
of Dukes and Pimpernels pompously prancing
before beatific, porcelain, wig-topped dolls
rouged and hollow-eyed.
Chroniclers cavort in the manner of angry bees
on spindle-pins, their stocking encased legs
pawing at pedagogs who gawk slack jawed.
Only the puncture of flesh-framed torsos
brings an end to the melee.
*Melee, generally refers to disorganized close combat
involving a group of fighters.
Overwhelmed dark vehemence
i swedges each breathe
for emancipation from shackles of
dark streets i walk
pawing of his covetous touches
loath tie-ins running since ages
serfdom of a man's wench
or from the core of philtre of miseries
Beneath my mass
My soul espoused
The overwhelmed dark vehemence
It is nor cremated neither cemented
'Rape her once
Rape her twice
Rape her enormous
In a troop or sole
Arouses the torment in her veins
And her blood starts rotting away
She greedily quest the weapon
The weapon to shred him as he devoured whole of her masses into pieces in one bite
The weapon to shred the mayhem that devoured her halcyon days'
Beneath my mass
My soul espoused
The overwhelmed dark vehemence
It is nor cremated neither cemented
As wisdom thickens, bones tend to be thinning.
If everybody's competing, nobody's really winning.
Everyone's whispering in green, but no one is truthing.
They're busy garishly flirting while heavenly preaching.
While everyone's busy pecking away at yellowing keys.
No one sees miracles unfurling like the rose and the lily.
Too many plastic boots tapping asphalt and concrete.
Not enough pinkies are touching forests of green.
I think daisies and cherubs are quite enchanting.
Though some folks call them just weeds and fantasy.
Peace, love, and empathy writhe in the briar and weed.
Like a three-legged dog pawing at a squadron of flees.
The tap water is off color and sniffs quite unclean.
Hit another pothole in my blue-collar daydream.
A plump governor is binging on blue-collar tax dollars again,
Leaving all the townsfolk scratching their heads.
He fingers my heartstrings though we've never once met.
Milking the puppet until there's not one splinter left.
Everyone's leaving, but galaxies keep on spinning.
The dead and dying far outnumber the breathing,
Wars are forever breeding with the money machine.
Their offspring are the orphans of misery and poverty.
Time thief is stealing the names off every gravestone.
13 chairs filled but one man still eats his last supper alone.
Ode to my cat Stormy
She is my alarm clock
Waking me earl
When she hears the plough
To clear the deep snow
She jumps on my bed
Looks out the window
To see what is there
Then jumps to the floor
To lay on my be
Stormy makes me laugh
She makes me smile
She cheers me up
When I am upset
Stormy is vocal
Stormy announces
Everywhere she goes
She meowed loudly
She was in the basement
She was in darkness
I followed her sound
She was telling me
She was in darkness
I went down the stairs
I turned on the lights
I went downstairs
I saw her pawing
For a favourite toy
That was out of reach
To reach for her toy
Biting winds and swirling flakes of snow had finally abated
We surveyed the deep drifts, which lay on the fields
The silvery moon peeped through the clouds and lit our way
It was bitterly cold, but the pitiful sound of bleating spurred us on
Some friends and neighbours had joined us – we had no time to lose!
Grabbing our spades we worked tirelessly throughout the night
Digging out the sheep and tiny lambs one by one
Their fleeces were matted with tiny icicles
As dawn broke we had rescued all but one of our precious flock
Suddenly our trusty sheepdog Shep started barking
We trudged to where he was frantically pawing at the snow
Our hearts lifted as we pulled the final sheep out alive
At last it was time for us to return to the farmhouse
In the distance I could see gold and silver lights sparkling
and scintillating on the Douglas fir tree in church in the village.
I raised my eyes to heaven and gave thanks.
A Winter Poem
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Required words
silver, gold, sparkling, flakes, icicles, drifts and spades
12~02~16