Shep Poems | Examples

Why Do You Think I Recommended Him to You

Shep was a slug-a-bug, a sluggard, a sloth
A do-little, do-nothing, man of the cloth
He cancelled more sermons than he ever wrote
This lazy lay-about did not fool this old goat.
He was a goldbricker at my church too said Lou.
Why do you think I recommended him to you?

The Rest of Them Mourn Grandpa

The rest of them mourn grandpa’s death in a sad way.
My dog Shep and I honor him on this cool fall day.
The others walk around crying, moaning he is gone.
Shep and I head for the lake, the one we used to fish on.

Grandpa is here with us, I can feel him in the moon.
We sit side by side, Shep and I, in silent commune.
Grandpa winks from the stars, the lake and the trees.
I shiver a bit as he sends us a reassuring brisk breeze.

Grandpa was special, a character, I adored him so.
I did not want him to leave, but it was time for him to go.
I am so glad you are out of pain, I tell him. God smiles at us.
You were such a great grandpa, I tell him. I love you, Gus!

Should we camp here? I ask Shep, and we curl down and around.
We lie down in our tiny tent, feeling safe on the hard Kansas ground.
Grandpa is here for sure, I can smell his tobacco and I feel his soul.
I know he is safely in heaven; the ultimate goal.

The Tree

The tree was magnificent in all its green glory
Its limbs spread proud and true
Beautifully shaped and full of new growth
It stood tall against the blue.
Many a child it had seen evolve
In the seventy years in the yard.
Silently there but always aware
Some years were particularly hard.
The summer of 64 was the year
When the teenage boy ran away
The mother spent many a day in the shade
As the tree kept the sadness away.
82 was the year of the storm
When the tornado threatened its world
But the tree stood firm and survived the blow
Of the wind as it turned and swirled.
1994 was especially hard
When the collie named Shep had died.
Now buried below the tree by the rock
It watched as the young girl cried.
The wedding was beautiful all in white
As the daughter became a bride.
Out in the yard, under the old oak tree
Even the father cried.
The rocking chairs now sit on the porch
As the age of the parents shows.
The old oak tree looks worse for wear
But a new young tree seedling grows.

T,F,W

The Farmers Wife.

Three sheep in the pig sty
how on earth did they get there?
The cows are in the stables
does anybody care?
The horses are in the top field
well, there's nothing wrong with that.
But the three sheep in the pig sty
were guided by our cat!

Why everything is topsy-turvey.
there's confusion all around.
Where's Shep our sheep dog?
He's nowhere to be found.
The farmers wife has realised
that farmers missing to
so without haste she goes to work
there's just so much to do.

Then just as she had finished
and turned to go to bed
she heard old Shep the sheep dog
Locked with farmer in 
the garden shed.

A Winter's Tale

Biting winds and swirling flakes of snow had finally abated

We surveyed the deep drifts, which lay on the fields
The silvery moon peeped through the clouds and lit our way
It was bitterly cold, but the pitiful sound of bleating spurred us on
Some friends and neighbours had joined us – we had no time to lose!
Grabbing our spades we worked tirelessly throughout the night
Digging out the sheep and tiny lambs one by one
Their fleeces were matted with tiny icicles
As dawn broke we had rescued all but one of our precious flock

Suddenly our trusty sheepdog Shep started barking
We trudged to where he was frantically pawing at the snow
Our hearts lifted as we pulled the final sheep out alive
At last it was time for us to return to the farmhouse

In the distance I could see gold and silver lights sparkling
and scintillating on the Douglas fir tree in church in the village.

I raised my eyes to heaven and gave thanks.

A Winter Poem
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton

Required words
silver, gold, sparkling, flakes, icicles, drifts and spades

12~02~16

Sitting On the Front Porch In the Evening Shade

Sitting on the front porch in the evening shade,
strumming on a flattop guitar that was made
to play along with a country song 
about a sad heart who was done wrong.

Old Shep beats his tail to the tune,
enjoying the breeze and the croon
of the melodic voice which fills the air,
encouraging the birds to sing with flair.

Friendly neighbors stop by to listen with glee
to the one-man show which is free,
there isn't anything he can't play,
taking all requests on any day.

Favorites are heard and the group is a part
of the dusk-like entertainment considered art,
joining together with voices raised up high,
taking a walk down memory lane with a sigh.

Sitting on the front porch in the evening shade
is a summertime thought that will not fade,
singing along with the guitar,
making sounds in unison near and far.

Nature's Heartbeat

Across in the meadow the animals stall

As away in the distance the farmer does call

To the old sheep dog "Shep"

"Away, come around"

The sheep respond cautiously

All milling no sound

The evening shadows lengthens

Tangibly a stillness descends

As nature's heartbeat changes

Chickens in alarm

A scurry of farmhands

There's a fox on the farm

Evading capture, in triumph he gains

Deft in his movements

His prize he contains

The farmer's gun up to his eye

Assuming the stance

Heaves a heavy sigh

Seeing his prey disappearing

Nowhere to be seen

As darkness creeps over

where the fox has been.

Morning Time

…MORNING TIME

Every morning at four, I hear the slamming of the woodshed door.
The rattle of the poker and the smell of wood smoke, wafting  through the air.
It rolls its way up the stair to where I am sleeping there.
The smell of homemade bread, toasting on the large black kitchen stove,
With coffee perking.
There’s honey and home churned butter, oatmeal hot, and brown sugar sweet.
Milk is ready to be strained and put in large steel milk pails.
Auntie’s in her Kitchen but has Uncle George to meet.
Now done with my breakfast and out the door, I run.
Up in the battered rusty truck, truck I jump, and so does good, old Shep.
It’s off to Grandfather’s farm we roll.
The sun is coming up on Brett Road, and smiles across the family farmland.
I see my Grandpa Billy and Great Grandpa Rufus comes with a limp
Outa’ the chicken coop, with brown eggs in a basket, as the cat’s wrap around his feet.
He comes up to greet with a large toothless grin and great bear hands he grabs and hugs me, His little JoAnne.

Little Cindy

We had a little Beagle named Cindy,

such a sweet little girl she was,

brother Darrell training her so well,

to be a great hunter, and that she was.

My dog shep and her got along just fine.

Had her for almost two years, until one day,

while chasing a rabbit across the steet,

poor little Cindy didn't see the car coming

down the way, she was killed outright.

Such a poor sweet and most tender dog she was.

Our friend old Ben carried her from the steet and

placed her small little body on the green grass

that she used to play in many times, then he

came and told us the sad news.  She was with

us a short time but so many dear sweet memories

that dear dog left in our hearts.

Written 8-15-11

Queenie My Sweet Little Dog

When Shep died I was heartbroken and sick,

how could any dog ever replace shep?

I didn't want a dog, but after a while I knew

that a dog is just what I wanted.

Found this little black  puppy, so cute

and cuddly.  A black lab-mix and what a

dog she was, so smart and very lovable.

I learned to love this dog very soon,

she had her shots they told me,

so I took their word for it.

Queenie followed me all over the yard,

the way shep use to do.  I trained her to do

some simple tricks which she learned so fast.

After around 8 months she got real sick, she

stopped eating, I took her to the vet and

he told me that she had distemper, I told him

that she had her shots and he told me,

that the shots sometimes don't always work.

A few days later she died, I was once again

heart broken, but later in life I was to find out

that death is just part of life, we need to enjoy

our pets while we can.

I buried her next to shep between the two

trees, she is still there 50 years later,

and I am still thinking about that dear

little dog that I had, she was so sweet

and loyal to me.

Written 8-15-11

Monroe Hotel

Monroe hotel so much history you had,

many people stepped of the Rock Island Line,

and paid you a visit for over 80 years.

My uncle Jim had his barber shop there for

many years.  I had my first job on your porch

shining shoes.  Your lobby brought much

attention with the Silver Dollars in the

Marble floor that no one failed to look at

while there.  In 1952 when old Ike came

you were just a stone throw away while

he made his speech from the back of the

train, while my school and half the town

listened to, come November he was

elected our President.

Many times my dog shep and I passed you

on our way to the Strand to see a movie

or up to Rexall Drug, you were a landmark

in Grinnell for a long time.  In 1970

Rock Island stopped its passenger service,

this met little business for you, soon

after closing they tore you down,

sad, but have some great memories of you.

Written 8-8-11

Wild Baby Rabbit

One time found me a wild baby rabbit,

so cute and fluffy was he.

Use to play with him by the

old weeping willow tree,

in the yard so big and care free.

Shep left this little creature alone,

he knew better after killing

my pet racoon I had.

I was still worred about this

little guy, but found out it was not

shep I had to worry about, but me.

One day I could not find the fluffy

little guy, while searching for him,

I stepped on him and that was the

end of my  pet baby rabbit.

written 8-8-11

Rite Spot

Many years ago, sister, our

dog shep and I would take a trip

up to the rite spot, which was up

the railroad tracks a ways.

During summer months a very

enjoyable walk, not so in winter,

but sister had to have her Pepsi,

so up we would go, we would take

our empties back to get our refund

from our depoist which in turn paid

for the new six pack of Pepsi.

We also bought our milk and other little things

there.  The Rite Spot also served as a Diner

for weary train travelers.

Great memories there, they closed it down

many years ago, so sad, but time moves on.

Written 8-8-11

Little Hole By Railroad Tracks

Many years ago walking down

railroad tracks with my old dog shep.

We always passed by this old hole

next to tracks that laid over a little

bed of water.

One day shep got to close,

and slid down toward hole,

he was stuck real tight,

I went home to get a rope,

when I got back, he was no where

to be found, after looking all over

for him, I went home and there he

was on front porch, like nothing had

happened, looking at me and wagging his

bushy tail, as I got down to his level, kisses is

what I got from this fine dog, don't know

to this day how he got home without me

seeing him, but that was shep for you.

We had many adventures, this was just one of

them.

Written 8-7-11

This really happened in Grinnell Iowa around 1953 or 1954

Dog Day Afternoon

I start in the morning
With a spring in my step
Like an excited puppy
Full of vigour and pep
But at the end of the day
I walk with a heavier step
And feel less like a puppy
And more like “old shep”

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