Dogs

The neighborhood is lined with houses
Whose yards are filled with mongrel hordes,
Kept safe behind white picket fences,
Unaware of the world beyond the wooden boards.

Peaceful nights are wrenched away
From hardworking neighbors needing sleep
When the howling hounds come out to play
And bark their prejudice across the street
To other hounds behind picket fences,
Also unable to see beyond their defenses.

Night after night the uncouth mutts stay woke,
Yipping and yapping their ode to democracy.
Until yapping becomes yipping in a cloud of smoke
And they are lost in a haze of their hypocrisy.

All while the suffering, sleepless majority
Are kept awake by the woke minority.
They wonder if the PACs of dogs on either side
Will ever look inward and get wise
To the folly of their two-tone protest
Across the streets of the midwest,
Against enemies decried as ignorant
Who–in fact–are not so different.

 

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Ballad of a Stray

“Shoo!” they say to me all day,
As I wander, unwanted and alone,
Down lonely streets, looking for meat,
And a dry place to call my home.

Among the two-legs, I scavenge their dregs
My ribs bruised by their kicks,
While snobby Maltese snub my maladies:
Rabid and half consumed by ticks. 

Foxy and Baby (a child’s poem)

 

 

 

The wind blows in her hair.

She’s like a tiny teddy bear.

——

A weekend away

We’re travelling down to Hampshire
for a mini-holiday
We don’t do this very often
so it’s nice to get away

Staying close to Lyndhurst
the New Forest all around
Taking wellington boots in case
it’s soggy on the ground

A little walk

 

Just a little walk
although quite brief
is just enough
to bring relief
Breathe in deep
fresh winter air
and feel the wind
blow through my hair

A walk in the woods

 

Dappled sunlight filtered through
the green tunnel up ahead
as carefree there we wandered
uncertain where it led

Not that we were bothered
for we cared not for the time
on such an afternoon as this
with autumn weather fine

Our garden

Our garden at this time of year
is a lovely sight to see
Most things here are in full bloom
and it’s a peaceful place to be

Ferring Gorse

 

Went for a wander on Mother’s Day
Down on Ferring Gorse
(In view of the chill it was quite brief)
But the beach looked nice of course

A dog’s life

 

It’s quiet at home with just us four
And the background radio station
The dogs they listen when we chat
But it’s a one-sided conversation

DOG CRIES

By Wendy Norman (Seafarrwide)

A dog is so clever he needs to run free
Feel wind on his back until eternity
Chasing birds and lizards, sniffing out rabbits
He cherishes moments to refine his habits

A dutiful companion loving faithfully
Aiming to please so earnestly
But a dog that sits down in a cage
He can’t see through his bars of rage

Growing insane with sadness he shows
Cowering with tuneful fear is all he knows
He can cry all day his lonely song
Pleading his freedom from this wrong

The Forbidden Toy

Christmas Poem: Challenge

As I look up, and up, my neck craning,

at dazzling lights and sparkling balls,

my inner desire I’m restraining,

as I wait patiently for one to fall.

Each night I lay dreaming of obtaining

my rightful prize; for now I’m abstaining.

As their footsteps approach, I turn away,

A “Dogs And Cats” Limerick

Relationships between dogs and cats
Are more complex than just cartoon spats.
I’ve seen acts of affection
And fearless loyal protection…
I wish I could listen in on their chats.

The autumn of life

The last leaf falls

drifting slowly

silently

into the night breeze

and the tree stands bare

open to the elements

it knows the change is upon it

It is the autumn of its life

It remembers the past

the many seasons it has enjoyed

and endured

It lived through sunny days

in the park

with laughing children

and barking dogs

it smiled down upon them all

It lived through snowy winter chills

and shivered with the tiny birds

as they snuggled in its branches

itshielded them as best it could