Pomeranian Poems

In the Forest of the Godlings

Genie, my dog: 

She was mixed part Pomeranian part Shih Tzu 
a female genius with excellent sight  
wise beyond her years she always knew how to 
appease me, when I was not feeling right 

Used to get so many migraines they were chronic
so  always had a bean bag in the freezer  
one day I lay across my carpet feeling catatonic 
to my Genie well this was not, a brain teaser 

She watched me for a while then knew what to do  
I had the beanbag sitting across my forehead 
she flipped on her backside & scooted beneath it too
side by side we lay together playing dead 

She was an empath like mom, always had a clue 
as to what to do, she was amazing   
at the ripe age of fifteen I knew what to do
I said my goodbyes then sent her in the forest of the Godlings.

An Address To Miss Barker

Miss Barker, let me say a word,
though this to many seem absurd.
Your attitude I find pragmatic,
not judgmental, not dogmatic.
So poetry is not your strength
though some will go to any length
to immortalize themselves in verse,
writing dogerell, if not  worse.
Avoid concerns to you so alien.
Be what you are, a Pomeranian.

My Pet Fairy

My favourite companion 
is my pet Pomeranian,
Fluffy, squishy and hairy
I call her ‘Fairy’.
She is milk-white,
A lovely sight!
She is feisty and fierce
She has proud pointed ears
She loves to jump and run
She is full of life and fun
She enjoys nibbling meat yummy
She adores rubs on her tummy
She likes to be snuggled,
And hugged and cuddled
She fancies taking a mid day nap
While I pet her in my lap.
Often, she is perched on the kitchen rack,
I love her to the moon and back.


14th March 2023

Contest: Beloved Pets Poetry Contest
Sponser: BJ Legros Kelley

A Playful Pomeranian

A Pomeranian in Tampa Bay
Loves nothing better to do than play
When ordered to speak
She’ll play hide and go seek
Her philosophy is live for today

1/15/22

Genie's Fable

We once owned a little mutt named Genie 
on occasion we called her Genie Panini 
we tried not to feed her table scraps n' stuff 
but then again,  I had her heart on my cuff 
so once in a while, we gave her little bits 
to keep at bay her continuous barking fits

Each night hubby would eat a bowl of cheerio 
while watching T.V. or listening to the stereo
Genie watched intently eyes peeled to the bowl  
the ritual worked well,  for she never stole       
he gave her 1,  there was nothing  she could do 
so she crunched it while she lay beside his shoe  
 

One day hubby went to answer the door and left 
Genie hopped on the couch and left him bereft 
she ate all the cheerios but she did leave him one 
 when he returned he saw an empty bowl no fun 
He'd been outsmarted by a funny little Shih Tzu  
with  Pomeranian smack, who knew what to do. 

Moral of the story: Never trust a dog, when it comes to food. 
Feb. 7, 2021

Ruff Feline-

Calico passion smelly tabby cat chatting 
Pomeranian silent kenneling 
Little box awakening 
tubby looney
 I craved the Pekingese pantywaist 
...but I'm a dog.  Meow

5/23/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr  2020

The Imaginative Lad

The Imaginative Lad


The blissful boy at the kitchen
table,delineating his Christmas list.
His Pomeranian puppy licking his cold, 
growing, beautiful toes.
Hot chocolate ambiances and
wheat toast, zephyrs up his nose.

He is a prodigious  child,with a
temperament, so marvelously mild.
Learning from grandmother to
write classic poetry.
"No one-liner poems from you,"
pronounced she.
"Use your heritage, our beautiful 
English language!"

On Christmas Day, Grandmother
received a book of sonnets, which 
he authored!
In a green velvet notebook with
a red satin ribbon outstanding upon it.

Grandmother had passed on the
glory of English!
For his Christmas,he was given books 
of the Poetry Masters.
Wrapped in loving gold under the great
scented, Balsam tree.
He unwrapped them with joy.
Words to live with him.
For decades, ever after.

November 23, 2019

Pomeranian Poem

Turned up nose
Bright bug eyes
Tiny little paws
He looks wise

Triangular ears
Atop his head
His aim is to
Be in my bed

He sure does
Make me grin
My bed is warm
Because of him

Spring Park Stroll

The scarlet cardinal flaps its wings
In the japanese apricot 
While the pomeranian
Run between the tulips
Surrounded with gold
And flame hues that
Colors the
Morning 
Stroll 







3-13-2016

Chateau Pl

Chateau Pl

A sleep walk guided by reflections
Although somethings were real
Not the front entry way
Or the stair case
Or the garage for that matter
Scrubbed and alcohol swabbed shoes
Eating off those would've been though
Pee sitting down!
And cologne must not be detectable
From more than an arms length away!
Nobody wore it
I think
The closet could've clothed a small town
And housed an elderly couple with a Pomeranian
A parked Steinway on sleek marble
Or maybe it was a Bentley, whichever,
The keys were misplaced
Handshakes are forbidden!
You may speak, however.
A stolli over ice seemed to be the only thing
Not surreal
Unless you would fancy triple dipping
Beluga caviar with a vacuum in your hand surreal
Or, perhaps, being seduced by homemade egg noodles
Can you describe that atrocius smell?
A Land's End catalog doused in kerosene
Ties & cufflinks & Jackets on fire sale
A whiff of ozone
Darkness
A hazy stare assisted by chirping birds
and a gurgling salt water tank
In an upstairs, 2 bdr. duplex
A peon awakens a prince

Gettting Rid of the Festiva

A Haibun

I tell you no one wanted that car. We kept it parked in the driveway for years while we made payments on Saturns and bought Subarus and Hondas and tried to ignore it. Meanwhile, I would drive it once a week to Trader Joe's or the Beaverton Library.

driver's door opens
chains pulled across pipes
runs great, good mileage

 I tried to donate it (only had about 102,000 miles). I called all the charities that take old cars (United Way, Cancer Research, even Kars4Kids) but upon hearing it was a 1989 Ford Festiva with a key jammed in the ignition refused to consider it.

 I finally had to call a junk dealer who offered us a $100, and who came with a big smile and a ruddy, little Pomeranian
 that waited obediently to one side while he hoisted the car up on his wrecker.

 The dog yapped all the while but seemed happy. She made me smile, and my heart bubbled a little.


just as Samantha
began licking my fingers
five 20's changed hands


Published Contemporary Haibun Online

In Dog We Trust

Something as small as a Chihuahua or a Pomeranian,
or as large as a Mastiff or Great Dane,
is taxonomically classified as “Canis familiaris”.
This domesticated species is man’s companion.
Dogs are found anywhere between Sydney and Ft. Wayne.
They have an ages-old history that is glorious.
Whether they are from a pedigree, or a mixed breed,
man’s best friend is a friend indeed.

To Rani With Love

TO RANI WITH LOVE 
(On the death of our pet Pomeranian)

Dearest Rani, where you have gone
Leaving all of us here, utterly forlorn
You were not a mere charming canine
For us, a veritable godsend, angel fine.

Your benign presence made us smile
And filled our lives with glee and shine
You were a source of joy in times of distress
For which we have no vocabulary to express.

We sought in your company joy bountiful
Which you showered in measures plentiful
You kept watch with alert eyes and ears
That scared to hell all unknown intruders.

You filled our home with your presence
Spreading joy and cheer in abundance
You identified yourself with one and all
And showered generously, love on all.

Your tender feelings and gentle caring
Removed all gloom with a cosy feeling
And your presence amidst us always
Brightened, our days with joy glowing.

How to cover your memory in a tiny page
For it is bound to run into an epic voyage
We, hence, lay down our pen, dear friend
Since our love for you shall never ever end.

My Life As a Pomeranian

Hi, my name is Precious,
And most folk do agree,
That my name is a perfect fit,
For little 'ol sweetheart me.

I'm a toy Pomeranian,
And I was bred to lie on laps,
Which happens to be the very place,
I love to take my naps.

I must confess, I am a beauty,
With my fluffy, golden hair.
My liquid chocolate eyes are bright,
With the intelligence I bear.

I am fed the most delicious treats,
I'm pampered and adored.
Some folk think that I'm too spoiled,
But their opinions I ignore.

My purpose in life is two-fold:
To look adorable and be a friend.
It's my joy and delight to fulfill each one,
And I'll do so 'til the end.

I want to thank my mistress,
For making me the dog I am today:
A beautiful, adored little darling,
I'm Precious! What more can I say?


6/28/12  For Tanya Harrington's "Dog Gone Tales" contest

Ode To My Pomeranian

Fluffy little ball
You have so much energy
And bring me great joy

• Short Pomeranian Poems
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