Rescue Dog - Tony Gardner

There’s no need to flinch when I lift my hand
No need to cower each time I stand
No need to run when I come near
No need to tremble, I see your fear.
You can sleep with both eyes shut,
Don’t need to jump when you wake up
Your food is yours to eat in peace
No need to fight to keep your feast.
No need to lie on the cold, hard floor
The beds and the sofas are yours to explore
Don’t need to sit out in the rain
The house is your shelter, your new domain.
I cannot erase the memories and fears
Cannot compensate for those awful years
But all that we have and all that you see
Is yours, ….you’re now part of our family.

Tony Gardner


Image : Pixabay - Alexas_Fotos

Mr. Froggy - Tony Gardner

My  name  is  Mr  Froggy

In  this  pond  I  was  born

I'm  back  again  to  fertilise

Another  batch  of  spawn.

To  reproduce  is  everything

I'd  like  to  make  that  clear

But  Tadpoles  are  no  care  of  mine

See  you  again  next  year.

Tony Gardner


Image : Pixabay - Couleur

Kittens and Puppies (What the f?!) - Ian Renouf-Watkins

Ooh and aah we whine as puppies gambol
Aah and ooh we purr as kittens caper
Their tom-foolery consummately droll
As they fumble around in toilet paper.
Chocolate boxes and gushing adverts
Sentimentality dripping off every frame
Pets at home, pets in the park, pets asleep
And even dogs that apparently play cards.
So when you’re next fussing over pets
Remember the Syrians, Yemeni’s too
Afghans and Libyans forgotten by you
Bleeding and dying left without hope
But then again, that puppy is so dope.


Image : Pixabay - janeb13

Rodents - Diana Pritchard

A rodent is a creature who endures
a never-ending need to chew and gnaw.
Incisors growing constantly ensures
a strong developmental, ageless jaw.
A squirrel with a bushy tail must chomp
through gathered nuts from oak or pine or beech
while beavers busy making dams leave stumps
of trees they fell with axe-like accuracy.
They build their cosy lodge above their lake
while mice move into homes of someone else
and scratch at night to keep us all awake
and raid the larder leaving signs and smells.
It’s rampant rats we fear the most, it seems,
who find their way into our dreaded dreams.

Diana Pritchard


Image : Pixabay - Glavo

My Cat Yorick - Oscar Milde

Came home last night the worse for drink
and didn’t really pause to think.
Opened the window, popped the cat
outside to do its this and that.
Awoke this morning, shocking head,
tongue like sandpaper, full of dread.
My tower-block flat’s ten stories high
Alas, poor Yorick. Cats can’t fly.

Oscar Milde

Image : Pixabay - SarahRichterArt

Ratty - Joan Etoile

Oh dear, dear Ratty
Cried a distraught Toad
Why ever did you have to
Cross the road?

An electric car
The whispering death
Was the reason that you took
Your last breath

No more tales from the riverbank
Sitting under the weeping willow
Rattus in peace, old chap
On your tarmac pillow

Joan Etoile

Image : Joan Etoile

My Kestrel At Port Soif - Tony Bradley

Have you noticed ever,
how unbelievably clever
the beautiful kestrels are?
with its amazing sight
in almost black night
even without a moon, or star.

Dropping from ninety to ten feet
in blustery rain or sleet
without the slightest sound
and hover, two feet away,
an unsuspecting prey
that's been long-targeted on the ground.

Circling, hovering, above the heath
it spots a urine trail,
fifty feet beneath
and  glides silent,through a rocky gap
then, so fast it swoops, to flail
its beautiful wings and tail
forming a deadly trap.

Tony Bradley

Image : Pixabay - adege

Snow Horses - Tony Gardner

In the frozen North where the Ice Wind blows
And the Devils dance in the thick, thick snow,
Where the nights are long, and the daylight brief
And Jack Frost paints every Aspen leaf.
The horses pass with never the sound
Of their hooves ringing out on the deadened ground.
While the white Owl glides almost unseen
Around the haunt of the cruel Ice Queen.
While the Devils dance where the ghost trees stand
In this beautiful, deadly, pure-white Land.

Tony Gardner

Image : Pinterest

The Choice..... - Tony Gardner

"Me or the dog, -- you'll have to choose,"
That's what she said today.
"I thought I'd found true love at last,
but that hound is in the way!"
It all was swell, so fine at first
I thought I'd found the Mate
That I could spend forever with
A gorgeous girl called Kate.
I brought her home so she could meet
Another dear to me
My old dog 'Jenn', a furry friend
As faithful as can be.
But they took an instant dislike
To each other right away
And Katie said she'd have to go
She really couldn't stay.
She turned to go then gave a yell
Jenn chased her to the door.
That was that, I guess that we
Won't see her anymore.
I miss my Kate, so sweet although
We didn't get a snog.
But I'm not too broken hearted
I've still got my loyal dog.

Tony Gardner

Image : after Pixabay - Gordon Johnson

Dog of the Bay - Diane Scantlebury

Oh to be a little dog running along the bay,
My tiny paws slipping, tripping,
As they upturn shells,
Darting back and forth to dodge the breakers,
Sniffing at stones smothered in seaweed
And curious smells,
Let off the lead to roam and explore,
I’d sniff at lost treasures
And driftwood washed ashore,
Trot over to my oblivious owners,
Having cocked my leg up to leave my mark,
Announce my return with a tail wag
And a loud, cheerful bark!

Diane Scantlebury

Image : Pixabay - Katrina_S

My Dog's Plea on Bonfire Night - Tony Gardner

Shivering and frightened
nowhere to find safety
Stay by me Daddy
As strong as a stone
There's lots more of those
Loud bangs and hisses
Won't they ever stop
And leave me alone
It used to be one night
That we burnt the Budloe
But now it spreads long past
Traditions we’ve known
A one night remembrance
Of something so joyful
Has turned into something
Wild, loud and so awful
So stay by me Daddy
Until it's all gone.

Tony Gardner

Bears - Diane Scantlebury

There’s a discarded blue mask
Blocking the gutter,
An abandoned rubber glove
On the fire escape stair,
The new toxic litter,
Sign of our times,
Strewn randomly everywhere,

There’s talk of bears
In the woods,
Strange shadows
Exiting in haste,
Leaving a trail of soiled paper,
And smelly piles
Of hazardous waste,

Is this how we go
Back to nature,
Our environment to defile?
And have we become thoughtless
Human bears,
Returning to dump in the wild?

Diane Scantlebury

Imposter - Diane Scantlebury

He’s an imposter,
Slinks around in my fur,
Steals in through my cat flap,
Imitates my purr,
He helps himself to my dinner,
Grows fat while I grow thin,
Licks his lips and then mocks me
With a self-satisfied grin,
He’s a scamp and a bully,
With sparkling, daring eyes,
Treats my place as if it’s his own,
He loves to tantalize,
Afterwards when he’s bored
He’ll saunter across the kitchen floor,
Without as much as a backward glance,
And head home to his house next door.

Diane Scantlebury

How to make yourself happy - Tony Gardner

Try to tickle a tortoise
Just a tiny tickle each day
He'll titter and smile and be thankful
And take all your troubles away.
For in making other folk happy
You'll brighten your own Life each day
So try to tickle a tortoise
You'll always be happy and gay.

Tony Gardner

Three Kittens - Trudie Shannon

She is a farmer’s wife, she is a farmer
She drowned the kittens
She said, it had to be done.
She said, It broke my heart
She said, I put them in a sack
She said, I plunged the sack snap, like that, into the bucket
She said, I had no choice
I was on my own.

It seemed barbaric to me
And I really didn’t want to listen or to hear.

I leave the farm and the farmer’s wife.

Now I reflect and consider,
How many small bodies has the sea swallowed
As the Syrian refugees flee their war?

It’s barbaric
But it seems we shed more tears over kittens.

Trudie Shannon

Animals - Stephen A. Roberts

Yes, that's what the animals do
In the wild, in their natural zoo
They live, they mate, they fight, they die
They starve, they run, they kill, they fly
Just like they have always done
Ever since there was a Sun
Long before the cameras came
And showed us that we are all the same

Stephen A. Roberts

Cat Burglar - Edgar Allan Poet

I curl up upon the armchair.
I purr and stare defiantly.
I will not move, let no one dare
to interfere, to dislodge me
or, when they slumber, softly deep,
I’ll suffocate them in their sleep.

They think I am a sulky cat.
They could not be the more misled,
for I am worse, by far, than that:
I am the Spirit of the Dead,
a demon dressed in feline skin.
When darkness falls, let sport begin.

I’ll sidle carefully upstairs
then enter bedrooms, one by one,
(their overheated, smelly lairs)
spring on each bed and have some fun.
I’ll dip into their psychic streams
and steal, from each, their precious dreams.

Edgar Allan Poet

The Groundhog’s Longing - Kathy Figueroa

Source:Wikipedia

The groundhog felt a longing
'Twas a most peculiar thing
A strange stirring in the soul
Could it be a sign of spring?

He pined for warmer weather
Which he hoped was on its way
So in his damp, dark burrow
He'd no longer have to stay

His empty stomach rumbled
As he thought of tender shoots
Because all he'd had for months
Were some tough, dirt-covered roots

He remembered his own kind
How they'd frolicked in the sun
He ached for companionship
And needed fresh air and fun

So down his hallway tunnel
He scurried to his front door
In great anticipation
Of many good things in store

Would expectations be met
And his ardent hopes come true?
Would his sore heart leap for joy
That winter was nearly through?

The answers to these questions
Will be revealed, at long last
Come February 2nd
And the Groundhog Day forecast!

Kathy Figueroa

Jules and Jim - Edgar Allan Poet

Jules forgot to feed the tiger,
which was very careless of him.
He worked at the Circus Zeiger
with his trustworthy colleague, Jim.
There, Jules would feed it Tiger-Mix
while Jim would teach it to do tricks.

Just a inattentive blunder
but, oh, its consequence was grim.
Jim, poor Jim, was torn asunder,
then Raj the tiger swallowed him.
It’s obvious, it must be said,
that hungry tigers should be fed.

Edgar Allan Poet

The Cobra - Richard Fleming

The cobra can’t resist a tune
so when the Charmer blows his flute,
to make the notes rise in the air,
the cobra stirs and follows suit.

It is a most amazing sight:
the tourists clap and toss rupees
while others, far less prosperous,
remunerate with loud whoopees.

Majestically, the cobra sways
from right to left, then left to right.
Applaud it, even if you’re bored:
it’s always best to be polite.

Richard Fleming