Tag Archives: animals
Holly and Carols limerick
The hallway with holly is hung;
The carols by choruses sung.
The tree is alight
To brighten the night
As the church bells are joyfully rung!
Christmas Greetings limerick
This Christmas I’m writing to you
Our friendship to warmly renew.
May the season be glad,
The best that you’ve had,
And all of your best dreams come true.
Santa’s Sleigh limerick
We’re singing the song of the sleigh
As Santa gets his underway.
The bells are a-jingle,
Our tummies a-tingle,
SO SHOUT OUT FOR THIS XMAS DAY!
There was a young Xmas-time elf
Who greatly admired himself.
He climbed up the tree,
A fairy to see,
But fell down and left with a skelf!
A reindeer of Santa’s grew ill
So the vet gave the patient a pill.
His ears went all droopy.
And then he went loopy.
So your present is over the hill!
A turkey was asked out to dine
So told all his friends, “I feel fine!
When the water grew hot
He went in the pot,
And asked for a cool glass of wine!
May all of your Xmas be very
Much more than the regular merry.
Though merry is good
There are times when you should
Find more ‘neath the mistletoe berry!
By William Clark
Amazing winter animals around the world unite,
Although extremely clever they know not it’s Christmas night.
Each day the same magical chores, each morning cool and crisp,
Secretly they disappear into their own little world in a wisp.
Strolling through the forest collecting chestnuts in the glade,
I peer and spy a reindeer and squirrel inquisitively gaze,
Robins scurrying in the holly bush and weasels in the brook,
Our faithful wide eyed earthly friends, so sadly misunderstood.
Rainforests, blue oceans, snowy hills and sandy bays,
God’s great gift for all on Earth, not just the human race.
Indian tigers in their jungles, African elephants on their plains,
South American anacondas, all share the air God made.
The flicker of Christmas candles creates a homely scene,
Twinkling lights and warm log fires for some is just a dream.
Indelible Christmas memories, my heart’s feeling so divine,
But our love is the everlasting love of animals for all time.
When it came to holidays
Mama had everything under control,
Baking cookies, wrapping presents
Even decorating the hall.
Christmas Eve kept everyone busy
And the house full of holiday cheer.
Papa and Jimmy left at daybreak
On the hunt for the perfect deer.
We’d wake up Christmas morning
Feeling the keen sense of surprise,
Excitement in our hearts
The minute we opened our eyes.
In our pajamas, hair all a muss,
We stretched and yawned, still half asleep.
Out of bed before Mama and Papa
We managed a sneaky little peek.
Catching sunbeams through the open window
Were the branches of a scrawny little tree.
Underneath were handmade toys ’n’ things,
The most thankful sight we ever did see.
Sharla Lee shults
Hark! Hear the sneezes of chosen ones.
Thine tiny hairs of potency they cannot out run.
All seasons, winter through fall,
your omnipresence is evident to all.
Whither can one go to escape your confident displays
of black on white, white on black, every shade displaying all the browns and greys?
If I go to the depths of the sea,
you manage to float by my eye like a wayward bee.
If I go to the heavens Leo awaits
to add his contribution to those who contemplate
the mysterious nature of that which has once again found its way onto their dinner plate!
If I remain on the earth and carefully search through history’s books’ garlands
I would find the Son of God blessed you with a wave of his hand;
or t’was it dismissal from his robe by command?
In the coldest lands men make snowy cocoons,
you are there.
In the hottest of wastelands among the sandy dunes,
you are there.
Your endurance is astounding and focused
defying even the most thorough removal process.
‘Tis for records eternal these verses have been chiselled.
For want of a climate destroyed and all life begun anew
you shall remain, you and your furry crew
surviving what dinosaurs could not, or Trojans too.
O cat hair, once apocalyptic doom has come from whence and gone thither,
settle upon the ruins of wasteland and humanity withered.
Cat hair, hear and believe, you always have the last laugh, disembodied critter!
A long time
All time is
My time is
It is yours
I get to
To feel how
Not in me
But you were
Into a paw
It felt good
Now I live
Ana Maria Caballero
Floating in slowness, drifting in stillness,
Foraging hours for seagrass and algae,
Heavy as giants your litheness ignored,
As mechanical monsters near you are mindlessly scored.
Eyes lost in a gray expanse,
Your prehensile lip brushes; your fluke steers ahead;
And still your dolphin-like intelligence is misunderstood,
By enemies, humans, with their heads in the woods.
Along with your peers dwelling in the canals,
Sleeping silently underwater you awaken to breathe,
As your nose pushes upwards to replenish your air,
You suddenly plunge downwards, mystified and scared.
After two years seacow mother you birth your calf,
And you search the mangrove shallows for warmth at last;
Oh gentle behemoth you cling to existence,
Only to be harmed without resistance!
Dedicated to the manatees: endangered and forgotten.
I’m a classic poet that lived from 1809-1865 in United States
Abraham Lincoln was born 12 February 1809 near Hodgenville, Kentucky, and grew up with little formal schooling. Self-educated, he was eventually elected to the Illinois House of Representatives and served from 1834 to 1842. Admitted to the bar in 1836, Lincoln used law as a gateway into politics, which dominated his life. He became Vice-Presidential candidate for the (new) Republic Party in 1856 and was elected 16th President of the United States, serving from 1861 to his assassination by John Wilkes Booth in Washington on April 15, 1865. Lincoln’s slave emancipation principles led to the civil war between the North and the South in 1861. He was survived by his wife Mary
The Bear Hunt
A wild-bear chace, didst never see?
Then hast thou lived in vain.
Thy richest bump of glorious glee,
Lies desert in thy brain.
When first my father settled here,
‘Twas then the frontier line:
The panther’s scream, filled night with fear
And bears preyed on the swine.
But wo for Bruin’s short lived fun,
When rose the squealing cry;
Now man and horse, with dog and gun,
For vengeance, at him fly.
A sound of danger strikes his ear;
He gives the breeze a snuff;
Away he bounds, with little fear,
And seeks the tangled rough.
On press his foes, and reach the ground,
Where’s left his half munched meal;
The dogs, in circles, scent around,
And find his fresh made trail.
With instant cry, away they dash,
And men as fast pursue;
O’er logs they leap, through water splash,
And shout the brisk halloo.
Now to elude the eager pack,
Bear shuns the open ground;
Th[r]ough matted vines, he shapes his track
And runs it, round and round.
The tall fleet cur, with deep-mouthed voice,
Now speeds him, as the wind;
While half-grown pup, and short-legged fice,
Are yelping far behind.
And fresh recruits are dropping in
To join the merry corps:
With yelp and yell,–a mingled din–
The woods are in a roar.
And round, and round the chace now goes,
The world’s alive with fun;
Nick Carter’s horse, his rider throws,
And more, Hill drops his gun.
Now sorely pressed, bear glances back,
And lolls his tired tongue;
When as, to force him from his track,
An ambush on him sprung.
Across the glade he sweeps for flight,
And fully is in view.
The dogs, new-fired, by the sight,
Their cry, and speed, renew.
The foremost ones, now reach his rear,
He turns, they dash away;
And circling now, the wrathful bear,
They have him full at bay.
At top of speed, the horse-men come,
All screaming in a row,
“Whoop! Take him Tiger. Seize him Drum.”
Bang,–bang–the rifles go.
And furious now, the dogs he tears,
And crushes in his ire,
Wheels right and left, and upward rears,
With eyes of burning fire.
But leaden death is at his heart,
Vain all the strength he plies.
And, spouting blood from every part,
He reels, and sinks, and dies.
And now a dinsome clamor rose,
‘Bout who should have his skin;
Who first draws blood, each hunter knows,
This prize must always win.
But who did this, and how to trace
What’s true from what’s a lie,
Like lawyers, in a murder case
They stoutly argufy.
Aforesaid fice, of blustering mood,
Behind, and quite forgot,
Just now emerging from the wood,
Arrives upon the spot.
With grinning teeth, and up-turned hair–
Brim full of spunk and wrath,
He growls, and seizes on dead bear,
And shakes for life and death.
And swells as if his skin would tear,
And growls and shakes again;
And swears, as plain as dog can swear,
That he has won the skin.
Conceited whelp! we laugh at thee–
Nor mind, that now a few
Of pompous, two-legged dogs there be,
Conceited quite as you.
Totally Concsious, and apropos of nothing, you come to see me.
Is someone here? I ask.
The moon. The full moon is inside your house.
My friends and I go running out into the street.
I’m in here, comes a voice from the house, but we aren’t listening.
We’re looking up at the sky.
My pet nightingale sobs like a drunk in the garden.
Ringdoves scatter with small cries, Where, Where.
It’s midnight. The whole neighborhood is up and out
in the street thinking, The cat burglar has come back.
The actual thief is there too, saying out loud,
Yes, the cat burglar is somewhere in this crowd.
No one pays attention.
Lo, I am with you always means when you look for God,
God is in the look of your eyes,
in the thought of looking, nearer to you than your self,
or things that have happened to you
There’s no need to go outside.
Be melting snow.
Wash yourself of yourself.
A white flower grows in the quietness.
Let your tongue become that flower.