Pets / Animals Poems (167)

They called him Plucky
He was a silly little thing
Chasing the Jennies
Left to right, right to left
Morning to night, night to morning
His stubby little tail danced and swayed
He knew this was a life of fun
Until one day the horsemen arrived
They came with whips and spurs
And they sang trail songs
And yelled loudly and frightened them all
Many burrows were captured, with the rope or chased
But he dodged them quickly
And came face to face
He balked and snorted
Stomped and brayed
And with a huff and a puff
He was gone...gone away

Encroaching shadows of a large powerful transparent demonic being creeps into day light.

Eyes burn a fearsome shade of red, muscles taut and bulging.

Paws heavily push into the snow leaving deep depressions of it`s weight of reality, as it stands 7 feet at the shoulder.

Hot snorting breaths flying with increased force as each dark step is taken into the light.

Ivory teeth glistening off the shine of the sun,

dripping blood that pierces the pure white snow,

and spreads like a wild fire consuming all in its path.

Low pitched growls from deep within the throat, sends shocking fear down ones spine upon hearing it.

It seems indestructible, with its look of complete malice.

But if you pay attention, and stay out of the tightened grip of its eyes,

you can find its weakness and revel in it.

The beatings continued, on into the night

Stones and bricks

sticks and bats

Laughter rides on the dead hearts` anger

Like the Reaper, they take without remorse

Slaying innocence, murdering love

They steal years of memories, embraces, and treats

They erase the history, between one lover and another

What do they feel when they beat down the innocent?

Pride, justice, honor, or joy?

Or do they feel the guilt and pain that can attack them from inside

When they`re caught, in their heinous crime, the souls follow, to haunt their demons.

It takes years to get through the hardships they gave, never replaceable.

The loving, the compassionate, the teacher, the taught.

And that slanderous voice as they were escorted away, still leaves singes and burns on the hearts of those who remain.

"They were just animals."

Her dark body unseen in the dark night, red eyes burning with a wild intensity,
the only indication of there being something out there.

The great wind blows fiercely, as if trying to pull out the full moon and let all others know of her presence,
but the moon remains hidden, casting erie shadows among the trees.

Her large paws molding into the ground leaving large indentations in the snow.

Her breath steams into the air, freezing into tiny droplets that hit the ground noiselessly.

No sound emits from her snarled lips, so she can go about the forest without being heard or seen.

Her tail sways back and forth gently.

She has no destination, and came from nowhere.

Into the woods I traveled, the sunlight danced through the canopy
leaving its scent on the forest floor.

All around me animals worked hard at survival of the fittest.

Ants scurried home carrying large leaves that they had cut from trees.

Deer foraged in the clearing, some fought for the right to be called the king of the forest.

Bears ate the wild berries and fished the streams.

Mice stored their grains under large rocks and stumps.

Birds gathered twigs and grass to make their nests.

The serenity of the forest suddenly changed, when a loud crack echoed through the air.

The mournful cry of coyote send everyone running, and hiding.

As quickly as the hustle and bustle had arrived, it had soon ceased, leaving me standing alone on the desolate ground.

Instinct took me into the deep woods.

The shadows enshrouded everything, and yet I could distinctly see the bright red blood scattered upon the forest floor.

My eyes quivered, and swept to its womb.

Lying still, motionless on a bed of moss, was the wolf.

His ivory and grey coat now drenched in blood.

The sacred ways of the wolf, the center of their being, had been left gaping open by man.

The inevitable end of a competition, thousands of years old, fought between brothers.

cat's eyes wide at the sight of mousie
ascamper in play outside of the house
'this squeaking dart would make a fine dinner
I'll bide my time, and purr to befriend her'
charade of cool kitty was tenuous at best
unknown, on high watching, was owl in her nest

meanwhile, teathered, on the far side of the yard
big dog was grousing silently, 'this staying put is hard!'
'oh if I could just get free, I'd chase that cat around'
'and if my teeth should catch her, I'd grind her on the ground'

under such pressure, then, dog's rusty tie snapped
surprising himself, plus, woke kitty's catnap
frightening the mouse, who took off in a run
now a startling new chain of events had begun

mouse's trust of cat might prove it's undoing
for quickly behind her, the cat was pursuing
tiny mouselegs pumping, as hard as they could
fearing her end may not end up so good

but dog was now almost on top of the cat
hard pounding in chase, mass slobbering fat
kitty shrieked, then sprinted around the house
yet she was still doggedly, after the mouse

no pace of prominade nor steps of stealth
a scairdy cat now, afraid for it's health
as dog gained on the cat, and cat gained on the mouse
arose noisy whoosh from on high by the house

just when mousie feared to be trapped in cat's paws
an owl lifted mouse off safely within her claws
they perched on a limb, eyes turned to the ground
watching dog chasing cat, around and around

but tweren't a surprise what hoot had done
for they had been fellows when they were young
when out of nest, young owlet plunged
nourished with fluorish from mousie's tongue
and now, 'last allowed to repay for such care'
her wing now protecting friend mouse sitting there

they bubbled and bounced, their laughter out loud
said owl 'that darn cat's no longer so proud'
'struggling to keep reach out of doggy's print paws'
'and safe from the bite of that mean old cur's jaw'

Sweet Sylvia in the morning
dew clinging to every inch of her soft plush fur.

Her eyes of amber,
calming and iridescent showing what appears to be...no fear.

Sweet Sylvia, her coat like that of pure snow
before the first touch of daylight reaches its tendrils down to thicken the softly set snow.

Sweet Sylvia`s gentle features playing with my emotions.

Tense as I am, not at all used to these beings being this close;
close so that her breath and mine entwine.

I can see her sinewy muscles always between the position of moving forward,
or to the side to better define the human that stands before her.

Sweet Sylvia`s entrusting eyes help me overcome the fear of her power;
power of the soul I never realized she had.

Sweet Sylvia, Sweet.

Into my home I brought you.
It's been a decade hence.
I knew that we were family
And we've been together since.
Together we grew older,
You before your time.
Your journey so much bolder
And much more fleet than mine.
You've always waited there for me
To greet me at the door.
But now your eyes can barely see
And moving at all is a painful chore.
My heart is truly breaking
So great will be the pain.
And this decision that I'm making
Is one that chills like winter rain.
One last time I'll stroke your ears
And tell you nothing's wrong.
And tonight my eyes will flood with tears
That your life so short and mine so long.

combs the sun's beams through her locks
dapples moonshine on her cheeks
sets brilliant stars upon her wrists
and stings her neck and arms with

musk and, bloodying her lips with gloss,
she steps from her apartment
strutting through the streets on clouds
alluring with coy glances

Haunting the grass
a butterfly
alights
upon its
rain-bent blades.

Daisies bathe its
tawny wings
in shadow.

Seconds pass.
Then
up and
away it flies,
freckling through the
haze. A

blackbird's voice,
flute-soft, clear,
accompanies its
breeze-borne flight to

other grass blades

and

other flowers.