10 of the Best Poems about Dogs | Interesting Literature
charles-bukowski-love-cats-dogs-poem witnessed through his relationship with the animals he considered his most profound teachers, cats. My puppy sure loves to lick me He thinks I'm a lollypop. Randomling 3: Yet Another Cat Poem Cats: toddlers in fur senior citizens with retractable claws lions in. This page of dog poems deals with our relationship with dogs. Some of this Maybe catching cats. I love to sit and bay the moon to keep fat souls from sleep .
Alfred Lord Tennyson I explained it to St. Peter, I'd rather stay here I won't be a nuisance, I won't even bark, I'll be very patient and wait, I'll be here, chewing on a celestial bone, No matter how long you may be.
I'd miss you so much, if I went in alone. It wouldn't be heaven for me. Although I'm up in heaven, my love for you stays near.
Charles Bukowski on his love for cats and dogs
So often I see you crying, many times you call my name. I want so much to lick your face and ease some of your pain. I wish that I could make you see that Heaven indeed is real. If you could see me run and play how much better you would feel.
But our loving God has promised me that when the time is right, you'll step out of the darkness and meet me in the light. Unknown Poet My sunshine doesn't come from the skies, It comes from the love in my dog's eyes. Unknown Poet The final lesson took a while But finally she understood "Is it three days, not counting hols?
Then come and meet me in the wood. Unknown Poet Why own a dog? There's a danger you know, You can't own just one, for the craving will grow. There's no doubt they're addictive, wherein lies the danger. While living with lots, you'll grow poorer and stranger.
One dog is no trouble, and two are so funny. The third one is easy, the fourth one's a honey.
The fifth one's delightful, the sixth one's a breeze, You find you can live with a houseful of ease. So how 'bout another?
Dog Love Poems - Love Poems and Poets
Would you really dare? They're really quite easy but, oh, Lord the hair! With dogs on the sofa and dogs on the bed, And crates in the kitchen, it's no bother, you've said. They're really no trouble, their manners are great. What's one more dog and just one more crate? The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty, The floor is all footprints, the furniture dusty. The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care? Who minds a few noseprints and a little more hair?
So let's keep a puppy, you can always find room, And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom. There's hardly a limit to the dogs you can add, The thought of a cutback sure makes you sad. Each one is so special, so useful, so funny.
Dog Poems and Verse For You to Enjoy
The vet and food bills grows larger, you owe BIG money. Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay, Except other "dog folks" who live the same way. Your lawn has now died, and your shrubs are dead too, But your weekends are busy, you're off with your crew. There's dog food and vitamins, training and shots.
And entries and travel and motels which cost lots. Is it worth it you wonder? Are you caught in a trap? Then that favorite one comes and climbs in your lap. His look says you're special and you know that you will Keep all of the critters in spite of the bill. Some just for showing and some just to breed.
I Can Has Cheezburger?
And some just for loving, they all fill a need. God, winter's a hassle, the dogs hate it too. But they must have their walks though they're numb and your blue.
Late evening is awful, you scream and you shout At the dogs on the sofa who refuse to go out. The dogs and the dog shows, the travel, the thrills, The work and the worry, the pressure, the bills.
The whole thing seems worth it, the dogs are your life. They're charming and funny and offset the strife. Your life-style has changed. Things won't be the same. Yes, those dogs are addictive and so is the dog game.
Unknown Poet No cold philosophy, no cynic sneer, Checks the unhidden and honest tear, What little difference, and how short the span, Betwixt thy instinct and the mind of man. You are that occurrence you are happening and I think you will understand. Love is a dog on a chain in a muddy yard on a cold day in a silent town where the land slopes down to a river. It's the end of autumn or the beginning of winter and the silence is tidal total and you know that things are not right under the sky of hard iron between all the old buildings of red faded brick that were made when labor and materials were cheap.
Big old buildings all squares and rectangles former warehouses tenements that saw many families hotels of a prior age offices where she used to work where he ran the elevator where they came and went but now nobody is walking no vehicles move on the streets it was just me. There is more about the place it could have been in a movie with the camera panning around capturing aspects of vertigo and dread a province of scary infirmity that makes you think you are dreaming because you've had dreams before and you've seen horror movies before but you know there's no such escape not a dream not a movie and the dog is real.
It wasn't always that way not the dog not the town. Long ago the Continental Army was headquartered here in the American Revolution and the city thrived into the future lots of transportation and manufacturing through the s but then river traffic fell to almost nothing railroads and trucks took over companies and people moved south and overseas and the town grew quiet.
Now it's the cold season the silence of an endless cold season almost monochromatic under that iron sky all black and white or in-between except for the fading red of the bricks in those big old buildings.Cute Cats and Dogs Love Babies Compilation (2015)
This is where the owners love the dog part of the time. This is where a pigeon steps on a little discarded plastic ring from a jug of milk and the ring stands up above the ground where a cold wind blows torn candy wrappers around your feet near the chain link fences the dirty concrete with moss growing in the cracks where branches show against the sky from dark tree trunks by the wrought metal railing that has caught a plastic bag that was blown by the wind.
You feel the lack the absence of bird calls coming down in rivulets and chips of silver showing they are alive. It's not to be this day the silence holds sway life seems more of an echo. Any faint smile of the sun shows false in the shadows. The dog didn't make a sound either.
I'm tempted to end right here but no we haven't really gotten to the love part yet.