Pekingese Poems

In pickle-trees, there lived a clutch
Of chickadees, too cute to touch,
They banqueted on wiggle-bugs,
And tickle-worms and giggle-slugs,
How chubby-cheeked those birdies grew,
Each week, they gained a pound or two,
I loved those pretty chickadees...
Until they ate my Pekingese.





8x8 Contest 
Sponsor: P.S. Awtry
Date:...Read More

The temperature dropped by six degrees, 
snow now carpets the ground and tall fir trees.
I adore wintry days such as these,
and dash to the shed with my bunch of keys
then ferret around and find my old skis.

I hurry inside out...Read More

...a true story


Her house was just a shell, a burnt-out ruin...

standing apart, the other houses still intact 
with painted jalousies and window curtains. 
She must have fallen asleep, the cigarette 
still dangling from her arthritic fingers;
I never saw her without...Read More

...a true story


Her house was just a shell, a burnt-out ruin...

standing apart, the other houses still intact 
with painted jalousies and window curtains. 
She must have fallen asleep, the cigarette 
still dangling from her arthritic fingers;
I never saw her without...Read More

...a true story


Her house was just a shell, a burnt-out ruin...

standing apart, the other houses still intact 
with painted jalousies and window curtains. 
She must have fallen asleep, the cigarette 
still dangling from her arthritic fingers;
I never saw her without...Read More

Recollections of a Pekingese

Remembering she loved me so.
Alone and frightened in that shop,
Hidden like a gerbil, laying low.
While wishing someone kind would stop.

I barked and yapped when she came near.
Because I knew she'd loved me so.
With sparkle eyes, she held...Read More

...a true story


Her house was just a shell, a burnt-out ruin...

standing apart, the other houses still intact 
with painted jalousies and window curtains. 
She must have fallen asleep, the cigarette 
still dangling from her arthritic fingers;
I never saw her without...Read More

...a true story


Her house was just a shell, a burnt-out ruin...

standing apart, the other houses still intact 
with painted jalousies and window curtains. 
She must have fallen asleep, the cigarette 
still dangling from her arthritic fingers;
I never saw her without...Read More