Perked Up Poems

After Orphanage Exposure

Mothering instincts perked up...
... heart to succor invites now
offers haven of God's love*
while blest soul welcomes midst hope
those seeking refuge from woes
and faith is propped to shelter
orphans yon prayer delight

*Romans 5:8 But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

July 21, 2025
3rd place, "WHAT HAPPENED AFTER" Verse Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud; judged on 7/23/2025

Acrostic Agility Poetry Contest

Paws on the windowsill, waiting for me
Ears perked up at the jingle of keys
Treats disappear with lightning speed

Dirt on the floor, but I don’t mind
Over and over, he’s one of a kind
Goofy grin, tongue out, tail wagging behind

Torn-up bear, stuffing all around
Once his favorite, now battle-worn and brown
You’d think it still squeaked by the way he pounces down

She Wants To Be a Cat

A tiny bit of surgery will turn you into a cat
I loved the idea, and told my cousin, Rat.
He rolled his eyes saying it would be dumb to do.
What does he know? He is a mere baby, only forty-two.

He has not had my life, he does not meow like me.
Has no knowledge of growling as I could easily see.
I am seventy-one, and I wish I had done it sooner.
I began turning into a cat under the moon they called Lunar.

My ears perked up first, all pointy and pretty.
I developed a taste of kibble, and my words were witty.
I kept to myself and swished around my new tail.
The best part of all? No one sends a cat mail.

Souvenirs From Volcanic Forest

He consulted a warlock, a wizard, a priest and a witch.
The witch finally asked “did you pick up something you shouldn’t have?”
He thought about this and remembered.
He had collected seashells, sticks, rocks, and soil from a national park.

"Kind of", he admitted.
“From Volcano National Park?” the witch asked him.
He nodded yes.
“You have to send it all back. Then your luck will change.”

He had not taken anything important, but his luck had changed.
His child had nearly succumbed from Covid-19, his wife left.
Sales were down by forty-six percent since he returned to the mainland.
He refused to do what she asked at first.

Then his mother and two uncles died.
A voice in his head said “send it back; send it back.”
When the box arrived at the post office in Hawaii they loaded it into a truck.
Heading for the beaches and the forests, to return all ninety-six boxes together.

After his items were returned to the national forest, order was restored.
His business perked up, and his wife returned home.
He decided to never pick up souvenirs again.
The witch had been spot on.
because she had done the same thing
years earlier....

Surprise For the Forest Bear Warrior

ultimate forest bear warrior was not always an upright walking beast
He had been transmogrified by a wizard named Helcreast.
Helcreast had turned him when he had his eyes on his daughter.
He fooled him into this trickery with a drink of what looked like water.

he had no name now, his parents had given up hope
Missing for five years, his girlfriend had hung herself with a rope
Helcreast probably hated him now more than ever before
Today he saw the ancient sage outside and he gave a mighty roar.

He wanted to tear him apart, and kick his pieces down the hill.
His hatred was as intense as ever, suddenly the wind became still.
Grandpa! He heard, and his ears perked up at the sound, proud.
He lumbered down the hill, and was face to face to a child so loud.

Whose child is this? He asked Helcreast who had disappeared from view.
Wizard had handed the child a cup, and he was drinking water so blue.
Poof! The child turned into a forest bear warrior cub, was this child his?
He picked up his offspring, and wandered off, amazed at the power of the wiz.

Where Are the Faerie Books

Evell’s pointed ears perked up. A faerie library! Where was it?
When does it open? Who can check out books? She was intrigued.
“Only true faeries can see it,” evil Morganna said, she was a chit.
Not being a pureblood, Evell wondered if she would get access.

“I know I will be invited,” Morganna told her. She was a snit.
Two weeks later Evell discovered a new road, and a tall stair.
She was let inside. Dwarfs, elves and dragons reading books.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” a pixie said, flinging pink dust in the air.

“Excuse me,” Evell said to the librarian. “Where are faerie books?”
“Everywhere,” the gargoyle said, extending his hands. “Every shelf.”
Fantastic Faerie Frolicks, Fairy Bible and Recipes for Fey Cooks.
Morganna never showed up. "She won’t," winked a knowing elf.

The Ticking Clock

Mr. Gee’s ears perked up at the sound of the ticking time clock.
He held it for another second, another foot step, another block. 
Was it a bomb? Would he be blown to smithereens in a bit?
Throw it!  A bystander yelled. Toss it in the river! Get rid of it! 

But Mr. Gee was the quintessential risk taker. Not ready to unload it.
Someone he trusted had given it to him to take care of, and he would.
An upstander yelled “Save yourself, Mr. Gee!” He was having a fit.
The rabbit held on to it, listening, hoping it was safe, for as long as he could.

BOOM!

I Strained To Hear More

Bodies are always turning up in the bayou.
I stopped scarfing down my sandwich. My ears perked up.
I wondered what he meant.
He must have been sitting behind me in the next booth.

The waitress came by and tried to be friendly.
I usually am, but I was missing out on the rest of the story.
“At least fourteen foot long,” He said.
I heard laughter.

Did he mean tall? Or is he talking about aliens?
My ears strained to hear more, but whispering began.
More laughter.
I wished I had brought a better book to read.

Awakened From a Deep Sleep

In the sunshine on the living-room rug
     Sparkles was asleep in the sun
     How I longed to give her a hug
      He ears perked up from her sleep
       When she heard a Dove's sing
        Quickly she bounded
         To the glass door
          On the floor
           She sat
            Stared

Savour of An Enchanted Love

SAVOUR OF AN ENCHANTED LOVE

Hold me in your eyes spellbound. 
Keep me there, warm and safe.
And let the charm stay potent.


With each wave of the wand, 
Enchant me.
Take me on an exhilarating ride.


The feeling of fresh air,
The peace in your embrace,
A blend of savoury flavours.


Never felt emotion so strong.
If it's your magic,
Please, keep me hypnotized.


Take me to your fortress,
With no tinge of fear, 
I'll walk with you.


Light your enchanted candle,
Conjure up some music.
This sublime beauty wants to dance for you.


They wonder what I see in you,
Why I'm so perked up.
And I wonder what is wrong with them.


What is more enthralling!
What is more captivating!
If not love.

Enchantress of the Woods

I heard the chanting but thought it was drumming
Was it the trees? My ears perked up a bit higher.
I wanted to know who or what was in the woods.
It was an enchantress, lost in a song of her creation.

She saw me not, as she wandered past, making music.
I am not magical, but I recognize mysticism when I hear it.
Melodic notes amazed me with her cosmic connection.
The woods seemed more alive than ever; she was a keeper.

The Sherriff's First Day, Part Iv

...Connolly, amazed, shook his heavy head,
kids do not lie well, the truth had been said,
having heard the tale, he just could not blame
a child with such anguish in his brain.

“Where are your sisters?”he asked patiently.
“There still in the house, and no doubt hungry.
But I can’t go back there, with what I’ve done,
that’s why I just rode on, trying to run.”

“Do you have family?”Connolly asked.
“An aunt if Bridgeford,” came the answer fast.
“Could you maybe tell her, of my sisters?
She has a house, and they could live with her!”

Connolly nodded. “I’ll take them myself.
As for a wanted man, he would do well
to leave this here county, head out elsewhere,
since I would have no jurisdiction there.”

The boy sat silent, then his eyes perked up,
Connolly remounted, and said, “Tracking’s tough.
Sometimes it’s easy to find your quarry,
sometimes they escape, it’s happened to me.”

With that he turned his horse towards the spread,
put his spurs to it, and away he sped,
he’d tell the town the killer got away,
these things happened, even on your first day.

What Would This Old Hag Know

He is around you now, the wizened woman said.
She had blue and purple hair, and she looked a hundred.
The lines in her face were crisscrossing like a pie that fell.
What would she know, this woman who professed to know.

Who is it? I asked, fearful that it might be my angry uncle.
It is a young boy, she said, about nine. He has caramel skin.
A bad guess if she was guessing as I am pasty white like glue.
And dark eyes, she told me; I think his name is Little Wolf.

My ears perked up like my German Shepherd’s ears
When he hears the truck of an Amazon delivery truck.
Little Wolf was the name of my imaginary friend
When I was three or four.

He had seemed real to me then.
Now at sixty-nine, I had almost forgotten him.
He is your guardian angel, she told me.
He helps you do the right thing.

She had credence now.
I saw wisdom in her eyes.
Her highway lined face changed to kind.
I was convinced.

Cat Came Unglued

Standing in the doorway, somewhat dishabille,
the neighbor's cat had staked out my grill.
The night before we'd barbecued
some fish and fries and other food.
And now the smells lingering still,
perked up that puss like a pep pill.
At first, I heard disquietude
stalking my deck with attitude.
And in her eyes, a look to kill;
I gave her space with no ill-will.
Out of that grill flew mouse and brood.
What happened next? Cat came unglued.

February 12, 2021

Randy Rudolph

`Twas Christmas Eve and in the air a chill 
Rudolph had to stand down cos he felt ill
Santa started to panic
So he sent for a medic 
Who in error gave Rudolph a blue pill.

He soon perked up and was raring to go
Santa was pleased and shouted ho ho ho
But then a surprise 
Between the stags thighs
Rudolphs man thing was beginning to grow.

Surprised Santa just looked on in dismay 
As Rudolph managed to break from the sleigh
A deer park he went
Picked up some doe's scent 
And with every doe had his wicked way. 


Written 7th December 2020. 
Christmas Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Alexis Y.

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