Long Paws Poems

Long Paws Poems. Below are the most popular long Paws by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Paws poems by poem length and keyword.


Cracked Iceberg

Chubby cream grubby against white ice
      Hungry somewhat clumsy polar bear heist
      Hopefully loping over to an asylum of seals
      Tusked beasts bound to become tasty meals
      

      Damp nose oscillates, catch tongue anticipates
      Hook claws extend, jagging his cumbersome gait
      Ungainly angle rotates blundering bear ballerina
      Jaws roar frustrated, mishap sadly signals dinner
     

      Jolly bodied, barrel stocky well insulated brood
      Swivel protruding chests to avoid being food
      Fear pulls polar threat away, phew! - Relax
      Pack pacify, raft drifts after cold cracks

 
      Snowy blows his nose with hankie huge paws
      Lucky that chubby has arms strong as oars
      Iceberg dips, whiskers twitch while wishing
      Imminent swim success - in frigid fishing





              8th March 2023
                    Written for Contest: Cracked
              Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Form: Burlesque


Premium Member Christmas Clerihews

The Grinch
is the guy I want to pinch.
Why would that crazy fool
ever want to steal the yule?

Santa Claus,
I'm just a kid who has four paws,
so, I hope to see beneath the tree,
a chew toy just for me.

Frosty the Snowman, 
you ain't got much left to show man -
just coals, a hat, and a carrot stick...
in a puddle.  Your spree was over pretty quick. 

Bob Cratchit
Did you catch it?
Scrooge says you got a raise.
For Tiny Tim, to God, let's praise.

Rudolf the Rednose Reindeer,
raised not very far from here,
hit the big time on Santa's sleigh,
with gifts for kids both young and grey. 

Jack Frost,
I told you to get lost.
Move along, don't linger.
I can't even move a finger.

Bob Cratchit,
Scrooge will bury the hatchet.
Before he changes his views,
buy Tiny Tim's orthopedic shoes.

Santa Claus,
don't send me a toy because,
as I start to think,
help my dad, so he won't drink.

Frosty the Snowman,
your mom told you not to go, man, 
outside to play in the sun.
A blizzard's a safer place to have fun.

The Grinch -
that's you, you Christmas monkey wrench.
You should be grateful to know that you
are the subject of a clerihew.
Form: Clerihew

Premium Member The Santa Poem She's Been Waiting For

Oh, boy! It's poem time!
       I think I'll try a little rhyme
     What goes with the word 'Claus'
       How 'bout paws, jaws and hee-haws

     Next I'll do 'a little trick with Nick'
       Pick, Quick, Lick, Sick, Wick, Tick, Chick
     Did you get it, that Nick's short for Nicholas
       Just like Tick is short for 'Tickle Us'

     And of course, I mustn't forget 'Kringle'
       Why, there's mingle, tingle and bi-lingual
     Yes, darling. I've finally found my niche
       We're on our way to becoming rich...

     So, here's a peep at my next fab new jingle
       Once we were married ~ now we're single
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Kitty Charms

Kitty charms
     sweetest gift
          in your arms

Fluffy fur
     twinkling eyes
          mews and purr

Hide and seek
     'neath the couch
          gold eyes peak

Chases wand
     bats the toy
          quick respond

Paws squirm neath
     the closed door
          priceless feat

Climbs the drapes
     scolded down
          runs escapes

Under chair
     hides and sulks
          with blank stare

Hears some noise
     food in bowl
          smells the joys

With meow
     runs to eat
          happy now

Nighttime treat
     sleeps on bed
          warms your feet
Form: Verse

Premium Member Butterflies Scatter In Playful Grace

I saunter surrounded by an array
of graceful movement in a wet meadow
fluttering  blue butterflies, so I lay
s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g to play with a swipe of my paws


Of graceful movement in a wet meadow
butterflies elude with beauty and grace
s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g to play with a swipe of my paws
as they scatter and fly away in space


Butterflies elude with beauty and grace
fluttering  blue butterflies, so I lay
as they scatter and fly away in space
I saunter surrounded by an array


3/8/2016

The poem above was a revise from my poem;

                                                  Meadow Of Blue

                                     I saunter surrounded by an array
                                           of graceful movement  a
                                           meadow of blue, so I lay
                                              and stretch to play
                                       as they scatter and fly away

3/29/2015

Contest: Any Poem Not For A Contest Ever
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Pantoum


Night of the tiger

I stalk my prey, through the dead of night,
Through thick green leaves, the moons soft light.
Vines would melt, from the crowns of trees,
Each paw would lay, under cover of the breeze.

My eyes are golden, my pupils are pierced,
My breathing delayed, my face is fierce.
My teeth are quite sharp, a stained yellow shade,
My coat of burnt orange, to black stripes it will fade.

I’ve locked on my target, branches snap on my paw,
I’m in a state of mind, saliva falls from my jaw.
My breathing stops, my heart slows down,
As the animal I approach, eats leaves from the ground. 

The cub by my side, hasn’t quite learned,
The art of stalking, to avoid being heard.
My cover is blown, the animal darts up,
The chase is now on, thanks to my cub.

The animal is fast, darting through the leaves,
But my eyes lock on, to where it weaves.
The leaves and snapped branches, fly through air,
As my golden orb eyes, are latched and stare.

My paws are built, for this kind of terrain,
The hard shelled beans, will feel no pain.
I pounce through lines of morning light,
The rising sun, waves goodbye to the night.

I caught my prey, through the skin of my teeth,
The chase was intense, fast and brief.
My cub comes clumsily, bouncing off the floor,
I stand with bloodied chin, adrenaline to my core.

This animal died, so we could survive,
The battle of nature, to stay alive.
I look up through canopies, of sunlit green,
I see spots of sky, a shade of aquamarine. 

I look at my cub, with her hungry tired eyes,
I look at my prey, a missing chunk from its thigh.
Our stomachs are filled, for a few more days,
I respect my prey, on the cold ground it will lay.
Form: Rhyme

The Great Cookie Caper

I baked some cookies, fresh and warm,
Their smell, a perfect, sugary storm.
I turned my back for just a beat,
And came back to a missing treat!

The culprit’s clear, though no one speaks—
It’s furry paws and whiskered cheeks.
A trail of crumbs leads down the hall,
A guilty cat, too proud to call.

I chase him down, he gives a stare,
Like, "What? I'm innocent, I swear!"
But crumbs are clinging to his tail,
And I know well, I’ve lost this tale.

So next time I bake, I’ll make a stand—
Lock the cookies in a jar, so grand!
But for now, I’ll laugh and sigh,
That sneaky cat’s the cookie guy!
Form: Rhyme

Remarkable



                That sickly little ginger's eye is open again!
Oh she's loving her new sister in crime!
Look at them on the pedestal taking on all comers!

Shouldn't have been in the zone and you wouldn't 
have gotten bit on the ass!
Oh now it's on, whoever is king of the mountain 
is master of all they survey!

Frenzy and pandemonium at the call of dinner bell 
is part of the ritual, aids in digestion!

I stole it fair and square, besides, I thought you 
were giving it to me, no it's mine now, 
step back, fool., you left it!
I will buy some time with this burger 
under the couch while you compose yourself 
and deal with it.

Ear wiggle on their backs getting pampered 
and holding baba with all four paws time! 
That one is not too big for a bottle, 
every kitty deserves a baba!

Corn kitty has such grace, such style, 
buttered up chest fur and look to the side 
chew finishing and dive back into the corn. 
She is actually using the paws as corncob holders, t
urning the corn for a fresh row!

Michael Jackson kitty is back, he is actually 
watching beat it and doing the moves!

Singing kitty licks his/her lips to come in in harmony, what a good kitty, so beautiful!

Aww every kitty deserves a Japanese girl 
to spoil it and tuck it in, give it a kiss goodnight!
Jackpot!
art

Premium Member Sundae and the Sunday Paper

Her name is Sundae, with four white paws...
Whatever her scheme whatever her cause
If I scan the newspaper, digesting the news
My effort is vain, ...there is simply no use!
Perhaps it is Sundae's practical joke...
It seems that this cat has a strong jealous streak!
For she prods and she pokes, craving my strokes
She pokes holes in the paper....hops onto my knees
Purring with ease....getting under my chin...with her Cheshire grin
Pushing aside, or squeezing within

She paws at my paper, this pesky dear pet
Requiring attention, till her own needs are met!
If I’m scanning a letter, there's a page to be read
I must stop what I'm doing, and love her instead!

It's all in her skill...wrinkled papers.....her thrill...
She's a sassy old cat, jealous lover, in fact...it's as simple as that!

.................................
Form: Rhyme

Waste Not Want Not

Waste not want not.

 Oh the rabbit went and died. 
You should have seen us all. 
The news was  like a car, 
smashed into a wall! 

The feeling it was shock, 
i felt like i would cry. 
How could it be so, 
that Thumper he would die! 

I remembered at Pet City, 
how hard the choice just was, 
till we seen the Rabbit 
with marks upon his paws! 

The family just went "Awwh!" 
We loved him oh so much. 
So we took him home, 
complete with brand new hutch. 

It seems so long ago, 
and yet it seems so near. 
That we brought him home, 
so small with such big ears! 

I cant believe he"s gone. 
We were left with excess food, 
and there is an empty space, 
where his hut once stood. 

But Sunday Lunch was good, 
a belly buster"Phew." 
yes you are quite right, 
we had a Rabbit stew! 

and not only that, 
our bad luck has been beat! 
We"ve set the record straight, 
with four new rabbits feet! 

But the best bit of it all, 
is Thumper was so fat! 
That i have got to wear 
a Davey Crocket hat! 

It is like my Gran would say, 
"You"ll be happy with your lot, 
if you follow just four words, 

Waste not want not!" 

No rabbits were harmed in the making of this poem. Thumper is alive and well and 
living at the bottom of my garden!
Form: Rhyme

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