The cat in the box...
Looking sly as a fox...
Was he wearing dog socks...
That’s quite the paradox...
In the box the cat sits...
Thinking Kibbles ‘n Bits...
At the end of his wits...
Chooses greens eggs and grits...
......
Three precocious pussies...
Engaged in a séance one stormy night...
Upon hearing some loud angry hisses...
They scampering off in scaredy-cat fright...
Connecting with their many lost lives...
In what became a ouija obsession...
These three precocious little tabbies...
Fell into a demonic possession...
......
She joined our family sixteen years ago...
When she was just a pup...
We could barely await her arrival...
With the excitement all built up...
She gave us years of pleasure...
Unconditional love to all...
She gave us lots of hugs and kisses...
Would always come whenever we call...
......
I walk with my love.
He is covered in red fur.
My wife is there too.
Dear cherished companion, sweet and true,
Each day I give my thanks to you,
For all the special ways you share,
Your loving presence everywhere.
Such artistry in every shed,
From kitchen floor to cozy bed.
Your fur adorns my morning feast,
Like snowflakes falling, never ceased.
......
Dear cherished companion, sweet and true,
Each day I give my thanks to you,
For all the special ways you share,
Your loving presence everywhere.
Such artistry in every shed,
From kitchen floor to cozy bed.
Your fur adorns my morning feast,
Like snowflakes falling, never ceased.
......
I walk with my love.
He is covered in red fur.
My wife is there too.
These are poems about animals and nature...
The Arrival of the Sea Lions
by Michael R. Burch
The sound
of hounds
resounds in the sound.
......
Cozy, snuggly, curled up tight
People think I'm sleeping, but that is far from being right,
With one eye open, the other tightly shut
I plough the very trade refined by every cat.
Quiet adoration amongst the whispered sighs
For this wonderful creation, nature's wily prize.
And all the while I'm lounging, perched upon my throne
Surveying my domain from this place I call home.
I'm fed and duly watered, patted when I wish,
My life a constant slumber, something I call Bliss,
......
Three precocious pussies...
Engaged in a séance one stormy night...
Upon hearing some loud angry hisses...
They scampering off in scaredy-cat fright...
Connecting with their many lost lives...
In what became a ouija obsession...
These three precocious little tabbies...
Fell into a demonic possession...
......