Most Liked Pets / Animals Poems (167)

Reaching to unpure souls like fingers to lips that tremble and hide, is the mind numbing howl of the one they call the "Rebel."

Over vast miles of flat ground the howl stretches to the souls, and clings to awaken lost fears and desires.

The main fear was seeing this rebel, for he had such power and motives to move one, to the point that he was treated as being higher than an alpha.

Sun piercing eyes glow from afar, as his physical form seems to blend into transparency.

Soon, his body emerges forth like a butterfly from its cocoon, and there he stood, awaiting fate and reason.

The nauseatingly bright sun cast bits of light upon his thick coat of rich maroon.

A soft creme was seemingly painted upon his face, to mirror a mask, and reddened to his paws.

Taut muscles bent with each step he took into the clearing.

His conformation showed good health and spirit although it was just that, his spirit that he liked to hide from others` scorning faces.

He was by no means an alpha, but he let his tail fly high with the pride of his heritage though he didn`t approve of looking proud about anything but his own failures.

A sly vindictive look spread across his face, as his eyes pinpointed a rocky ledge, which he complacently walked to.

Lying upon the cold hard surface, he yawns, exposing a deep blue stripe down his tongue, and closes his eyes.

What is it makes your old yard dog
Bay all night at the moon,
In chorus with the wild coyote's
Archaic clannish tune?

By daylight he's content enough
To lay around and nap,
Domesticated by his look
A ward of table scrap.


But nightfall wakens something deep
Where mind and soul convene.
Some age-old longing locked awat
Embedded in his genes.

The same thing makes a fella
Who is both steadfast and sane,
Jerk down a rope and join the chase
With slack pitched in his rein.

His slight regard for consequence
Attests to what's inside.
A banner unfurled honestly,
Impossible to hide.

Some know it on the ocean's waves.
Some dig it out of mines.
It finds us on the city streets
Or high up in the pines.

It's played out in the stadiums
For all the multitude,
Or realized in the cedar breaks
In perfect solitude.

That we fool others and ourselves
It matters not at all.
We're ruled by what's inside us
When we hear the coyote call.

Some are blessed with tranquil passing
While others met a tragic end
Truth is, it's never easy
When you've lost a trusted friend

As horses go, it's sometimes told
In simple words that cowgirls use
He darn sure was a good one
He's the kind you hate to lose

He's the kind you'd ride the river with
Roam the canyons and the breaks
In rough country and wild cattle
He'd be the one you'd take

His efforts weren't ruled by stature
With him you'd finish what you'd start
His limits were governed only
By the dimension of his heart

His expectations were simple
Merely fairness from a friend
But when he'd feel the need to run
Don't try to fence him in

Pure poetry in motion
Across the plains he'd fly
A tried and true compadre
In a seasoned cowgirl's eye

His courage was unmatched by mortal men
From conquistadors to kings
Cowboys sing his praises
At roundups in the spring

Ain't it strange how thoughts of horses lost
Mirror those of men past on?
And though they've gone to glory
Their spirit's never gone

Sometimes simple words seem best
When final words we choose
He darn sure was a good one
He's the kind you'd hate to lose

Have you ever seen a Black Wolf?
Head held high out of confidence.
Confidence in himself.
Confidence in his heart,
in his mind.

A Black Wolf strays away from the pack.
He does what he does and goes where ever he pleases.
Forever perish the thought of what others think.

A Black Wolf gets frustrated
A Black Wolf gets restless.
A Black Wolf must do what he is good at
Otherwise he would not be a Black Wolf

A Black Wolf takes care of his own,
and until he is capable of doing so
A Black Wolf is invisible

A Black Wolf is alone and contemplates his end
in the depths of the darkness.
A Black Wolf is flawed but breeds perfection

Have you ever seen a Black Wolf?
Indescribable, untamable, restless, tired, cold and
his only source of heat comes from his rage.
Now you have.

The Black Wolf demands respect. But receives none.
The Black Wolf is not evil.
The Black Wolf is just honest with himself.

The Black Wolf is endangered. There are none like him.
The Black Wolf bleeds from the inside out and no one ever
heals his wounds.

The Black Wolf is deceived, betrayed, and plotted against.
No one wants to hear the Black Wolf's truth.

In the still of the moonlit, forest night.
Catch your breath and bend your knees.
If you ever seriously betray the Black Wolf
with absolute malice in your heart.
The Black Wolf will seek you out.

The Black Wolf will watch you and then
The Black Wolf will destroy you.

So is fate of those who wish to chose
The path of the Black Wolf- Loneliness,
emptiness, poverty, power, wisdom,
righteousness and short influence before
The Fear of the truth captures them, and
decide to betray you.

She approaches, joy written across her beautiful face
Brown eyes twinkle with love and happiness
She responds to your caress, leaning in to your hand
soft, silky to touch, returning the gentle pressure
No words spoken,
but you just know she is asking to spend time with you,
and you alone.
The love wraps around you, it fills the empty spaces
Come to me, she lets you know now is the time
the time for release
the time for sharing your love
As you pick up the keys,
Her excitement cant be contained
It is her time,
it is your time
It is time for a walk, the best way to any dogs heart!

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He placed his paw upon my knee.
Those big brown eyes stared up at me.
As if to say so tenderly.
Don't you know, can't you see?
Oh I wish, I wish you were a tree.

what heart hath she that taketh me
'twixt here and her will never be
but her heart i heareth in the night
and i may never know why this feels so right

what soul hath she to save mine now
i cannot smile but she's teaching me how
how to trust, to touch but most of all to feel
feel whatever 'tis in thy heart a heart that she may heal

but teacher she's so far away and a mystery to me
then again she knew about my cerulean blue eyes to see
but see her never will i in how ever many passing years
but i'll always be grateful for stemming the tide from my cerulean blue eyes

so taketh from me everything i own
torture me in body and bone
the only way i ever connected to her was whenever we wrote
so Lord, when you plan to end a friend at least spare me one last note
WHY? WHAT IS THIS? IS IT SO CLOSE TO BE SO FAR?

DON'T KNOW IF U KNEW THIS OR IF I ALREADY TOLD YOU BUT IT BEARS
REPEATING....U R NICE AND I LIKE U SO THANK U FOR BEING
YOU
~ME!~

He'll wait all day for you to come home
Although he'd rather jump the fence an roam
His tail wagging whatever your mood
The door he's at,come on let me in dont be rude

He's keen for a pat an lets you know it
By barging in an wants to show it
Rubbing his frame against your leg
Or sitting there with eyes that beg

If you do not respond to his antic
Its likely he may get frantic
Jump around the house some more
Until you show him you adore

Then he'll sit while you scratch or pat
Even lay down if he's happy with that
But stop to early an you'll see
He's up again bothering thee

He seeks affection everyday
For that my friends is his way
Born into this world a dog to live
With all but unconditional love to give

The love of horses knows not it's own depth
'Til the hour of separation. -Unknown

Three horses taken from the field one night
By hands of strangers without plight;
How bold they are to take the horse,
Those who are without remorse.

If they could trust, as those they steal
They just might find an honest deal. - Peter J. Hurst

On March 23rd, I had bought a buckskin pony at the Cleburne Horse Sale. I had him delivered that very night and settled him into a stall in the barn. The very next morning at 7:00 AM March 24th, the barn gate was ajar and the three Paint geldings were missing. We recruited some neighbors, the wranglers and ourselves and fanned out like a covey of quail to search. We searched five miles out from the ranch, exploring abandoned properties, talking to other neighbors, etc.. NO HORSES.

We searched until 1:00 AM with no sign of the horses anywhere. We filed a stolen horses report with the county sheriff's department who took photos, copies of brands, etc... My boss who is the county sheriff got on the phone and contacted sherrifs from six other counties to lean on the deliveryman who was the last person besides myself to see the horses.We made it very "HOT" for him to move those horses. I also got onto netposse and had fliers made up of the horses with their information which contacts every sheriff's department in the US, plus every sale barn in the US. Last Tuesday, Mr.Bear e-mailed those fliers to the deliveryman. Tuesday night, the horses were "found" running loose by a Sheriff's Deputy ten miles from our ranch. One of the horses had been hit by a truck. He has a nasty gash above his left eye and on his neck. Eighty stitches to put him back together. We figure the deliveryman was going to sell the horses and cut his losses when it got too "HOT" for him. He dumped them in our area to be found. We have a bill of $1,074.40 with the vet bill, impound fees, etc. We are NOT happy about this at all.

We fully intend to prosecute and on top of all of this "FUN", I learned that I need to have a hysterectomy on May 11th.

Inevitably they talk about their dogs
Leaning against the bar;
Leaning against the fenders of their pickup trucks,
Gazing at the stars.

Little do they know
Those little silver specks in the heavens;
Are the reflections from the eyes,
Of all their old friends long gone.

And those silver streaks, not falling stars
No, frisbee balls and sticks
That got away in the weightlessness of space.

I was on duty often when they came
And I cried along with their masters;
When their time had come,
The rich, the poor, free spirits and cowboys.

Old couples, young children
Survivors of the holocaust;
Marines home just in time.

Well, we know where they go
But whence came these drifters?
Some just showed up on the porch, quietly waiting
Like they had an appointment.

Others came in little squeaking boxes
And restless hands fed them with nippled bottle;
Their mothers lost,
Until irresistibility became full value.

And they rode home
On the leather seat of the Rolls Royce.