Long Whiskers Poems
Long Whiskers Poems. Below are the most popular long Whiskers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whiskers poems by poem length and keyword.
Cats have always been with me
each in their own way
has run my house, has run my life,
and worried me when they strayed.
White cats like Alice’s Snowdrop
or striped tigers like the Cheshire
Longhaired Coons from Maine
Now those really are a treasure!
Long whiskers speared the dust bunnies
underneath my rumpled bed’s shell
and they found my missing sock
but they would never tell.
My Pixies paws smelled like popcorn!
Her tummy fur was sweet and long
I’ve heard folks have spun yarn from it
which kept them very warm.
I dream, of black cats I have loved
and tortoise shell “money cats”
I’ve thought of them as babies BUT
They didn’t think much of that.
I’d rather have a cat with me
For the rest of the life I’m given
Oh please give me one more cat
before I leave for heaven.
Dedicated to the Cheshire Cat in Alice
The Raterpillar,
( as introduced in ‘The Tigerilla’.
So, now lets meet the raterpillar
He’s a this-and-that-erpillar
In the jungle life is grim
With other mix-ups just like him
His head is of a big brown rat
The rest, a caterpillar that
has no wings but you can bet
He simply hasn’t got them yet
This half a rat and half a moth
Might not chew your fingers off
But this thing might just bite your nose
Then nibble on your favourite rose
Its head bears teeth and whiskers too
And black eyes that fixate on you
The rest is nature’s weirdest fail
It’s like tail… that has a tail
There was no raterpillar mother
So he’s shocked to meet another
What you get if they lay eggs
Is rats with wings… and many legs
And lo, its got its brand new wings
And now it flys like it’s on strings
A flying rat like Satan made
To seek out every last lampshade
Stubbing my toeses and whiskers on women
Stepping on nettles and by a swarm of bees bitten
Bounded like hostages tied up with strings
These are a few of my suckiest things
White collared phonies and bills piled in oodles
Bad smells and poop felled from schnauzers and poodles
Old geezers who cry when the old swooner sings
These are a few of my suckiest things
News from the presses with more stock value slashes
Cornflakes that grow soggy when in the milk splashes
Little wood splinters that felt like a sting
These are a few of my suckiest things
When the moon lights
When the glee sings
When I’m feeling glad
I stumble upon one of my suckiest things
And everything turns bad
>
A clever young squirrel
named Sammy was bold,
Until a sharp frost made the
branches turn cold.
He stood on an oak tree and
looked at a pine,
But lost all his courage and
started to whine.
"I've forgotten the trick!"
Sammy cried to a bird,
"My paws are too heavy, my
vision is blurred!"
A blue jay flew down with a
twitch of her wing,
"Just focus your eyes and
remember the spring!"
The chipmunks all gathered
to watch from below,
They shouted
encouragement down in the
snow.
"You've done it a thousand
times, Sammy, just try,
You don't need real wings to
feel you can fly!"
He wiggled his whiskers and
lined up his feet,
And pushed off the bark with
a rhythmic beat.
He sailed through the air like
a furry brown airplane,
And landed safely in the pine
tree again.
The crowd cheered so loudly
the forest did shake,
And Sammy celebrated with
an acorn cake.
He learned that whenever
you face a big fear,
Just trust in yourself and
your friends cheering for you.
Oh, foolish man! I told you I'm not a clinger
Don't grab my tail 'less you want to be bitten
and if at me you keep pointing your finger
I'll show you the contempt of an angry kitten
Be off with your horde and their petty assails
or I vow to scratch the eyes of those with you
whose fatty buttocks are blubbery like whales
Your gaggle flings vile insults as you pursue.
My whiskers are trimmed and yours are scruffy
You know what I mean when I spit and hiss?
You're not insulting me when you call me Fluffy
I'm an aristocratic feline. I only answer to Priss.
If you draw nearer, I'll swat you with my paws
Keep your dirty hands off of my marmalade coat
or I swear I'll scratch you with unsheathed claws
For your insolence there should be an antidote!
From his sweetie Dave took lots of guff
'Cause his beard was mighty ruff
Too bad you get fewer kisses, Dave
Try Burma Shave - its all the rave!
Do you sprout a very wild stubble?
Have you heard of the latest rave?
You'd save yerself a ton of trouble
Taming yer mug with Burma Shave!
We feel very sorry for poor Walter
His bride left him standing at the altar!
His whiskers scratched her lovely face
Should-a used Burma Shave to save face!
Is that 5 o'clock shadow giving you stress?
And are the ladies noticing you less?
Then, on yer mug you should slather
A creamy coat of Burma Shave lather!
While they were dancing cheek to cheek
Said she, "Go paddle up the creek!
You scratched my face, you hairy knave!
Next time treat yer mug with Burma Shave!"
Are otters so odd?
In Old English
Their name means 'water'
And it really ought to
As they live near the river or sea
Are otters so odd?
They sing like canaries
With clear voices
So happy and merry
Their high-pitched sopranos
A treat for you and for me
Are otters so odd?
They're really so cute
When they stand up
They look so much like
Little 'fish pups' --
(You almost expect them to bark) --
But they've whiskers like cats
Except for one thing:
Some of those whiskers
Jut out from their eyes
Which is quite a surprise
Are otters so odd?
Some might "Yes" nod
But I see not the need
For either a rod
Or an 'otter-swatter'
Serious trouble is prowling.
There’s snow, mew-mew meowing.
Those steel-blue eyes, mesmerizing.
Serious trouble is prowling.
His tail’s not tucked between his legs -
Stands up like a towering keg.
In his haunt, he’ll never beg.
His tail’s not tucked between his legs.
Trouble’s whiskers, like a great ‘stache.
Fur looks pettable, but claws clash.
The calico cat - would-be ash.
Trouble’s whiskers, like a great ‘stache.
Snow’s low-down, to the ground, alone,
and doesn’t want his cover blown.
He eats and reaps the seeds he’s sown.
Snow’s low-down, to the ground, alone.
The girl called him “Snow” - he’s “Trouble.”
He turned the household to rubble.
Was kicked out of cash-cow bubble.
The girl called him “Snow” - he’s “Trouble.”
Don’t feel sorry - keep up your guard.
He’ll lie his way into your yard.
A shark, remember he plays cards.
Don’t feel sorry - keep up your guard.
Serious trouble is prowling.
There’s snow, mew-mew meowing.
Those steel-blue eyes, mesmerizing.
Serious trouble is prowling.
10/20/2022
"IN THE COURT OF CATS"
By Austin Fwasan Maseko
In the grand court of cats, I stand accused
A lowly rat on trial, with justice confused
The judges' whiskers twitch, their ears perk high
As they scrutinize me, with a skeptical eye
The prosecutor purrs, with a sly little grin
"A menace to society, this rat within"
She lists my crimes, with a flick of her tail
Stealing crumbs and cheese, without fail
I tremble with fear, as the charges are read
Guilty by association, my fate's already sealed
The cat judges confer, their tails entwined
Their verdict is clear, their sentence defined
Banishment to the shadows, where I'll hide and creep
A life of scraps and fear, forever to keep
But I argue back, with a squeaky little voice
"Am I not a creature, with a right to rejoice?
I scurvy for food, like you hunt and play
Why is it wrong for me, to survive each day?
I clean up crumbs, and scraps that you leave
Keeping your home tidy, is that not a noble deed?"
The cat judges pause, their ears perked in surprise
A glimmer of doubt, in their feline eyes
They confer once more, their decision revised
A compromise reached, a new sentence devised
"Banishment is too harsh, for a humble rat like you"
They decree, with a nod, "you may scurvy through"
But stay out of our way, and keep your distance true
Or face the consequences, of our feline crew
I breathe a sigh of relief, as the verdict is read
A small victory, for a rat like me, indeed
I scurvy away, with a newfound sense of pride
For even a lowly rat, can make a dignified stride.
The cat judges rise, their robes flowing free
Their eyes gleam with wisdom, as they depart the tree
Their verdict may seem strange, to the feline crowd
But justice is served, in this curious, upside-down world we live in, proud.
My owner has a beautiful garden out back in my yard
I can’t wait to run out there to play and stand guard
My whiskers tickle with fresh air and morning dew
I watch songbirds fly around me and chirp as they do
I sneak over to the perennials and the catnip bunch
I chew and roll in it until I feel all giddy with a punch
I then relax on the garden swing, basking in the sun
And lick my lips as I watch the hummers, such fun
Now Bored, I run under the lilac trees ready to pounce
At the chipmunk eating seeds, I will make him flounce
I dart and chase him and he hides in the geranium plants
I give up and decide to check out the peonies and chase ants
My owner then calls out and wants me to go back in
My food is ready for me with pate’ from a gourmet tin
I joyfully skip to my food, relaxed and still feeling a high
I can’t wait to go back to the garden before the day goes by