Never say, ‘tiny little rabbit’
in a tiny little boat,
or the rabbit might go overboard,
followed by the dog,
and the tiny little boat
Just might forget to float.
Worse things than this
can happen at sea,
according to me;
but I would take that
with a tiny pinch of fault.
Just a little note
was all she wrote to tell me:
‘Dinner’s in the dog!’
With a dog by my side,
and as my cat licks my head,
I guess it’s safe to say,
‘Another 10 minutes in bed!’
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Bed, #MinnieTheDachshund, #poetry. #poem, #RosieTheCat, cat, dog
I’m not sure
how that works,
but it seems to be
illogical to me.
.
Perhaps, the dog
wags its tail so fiercely
that it might seem
like the tail
is in control;
but,
seems,
is not does.
.
I drew a picture of a dog…
or a cow;
and, now,
I don’t know whether
it will squeak or miaow.
If you try
and cross
a Labrador
with a bee
you will just get
a confused Labrador
and a bee
that is so much crosser
than it ought to be.
Do you see?
“You are such a slowch!”
I looked at Vega,
and Vega looked at me;
she didn’t know the word,
obviously.
“It’s a shortening of ‘slowcoach”,
I informed her,
“And not that far removed from ‘sloth’,
just like you.”
.
By this time, Vega ‘had’ moved – not very far,
and not very quickly –
from a position of indifference
to one of couldn’tcarelessedness.
I wake up in bed
with a dog on my head
who wished me good morning,
and a desire to be fed,
“Hello!’ says me,
and ‘Hello!’ says Min,
and, ‘Good morning!’
‘Good morning!’
with a lick and a grin.
Tobie was a catcher,
a catcher in the rye;
he’d catch the ball I threw for him
no matter how far or high.
I miss my little catcher,
his cuddles and his ways;
but that pooch did live his best life
in the most mysterious ways.
My dog’s Rusty,
I left him out last night,
there was a brief rain shower,
he used to be
just black and white.
Graeme Sandford 