You give us good bites from the table
Where Daddy will just pet our fur
Lil nuggets of chicken or salmon
Like perfectly made petits four
Your ballet nails scratch our backs
Our sleepy eyes close in delight
And then suddenly you sneeze us awake
So we have to shout Meowsundheit
This tiny poem will show you our love
More than any pretty flowers say
And so we're forever your cutey kittens
Happy Meower's Day
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 10:48 AM UTC
. Oh
. middle
. finger
How I do need
thy simple gest
to handle the
*** holes who
oft cross the
rue of my day
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 8:59 AM UTC
I am your champion
for when you lose your way
And a shoulder to cry on
so let life come as it may
I am your champion
when you have nothing to say
The one who will be here
until we're old and gray
You are worth fighting for
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
Truth is paradise. It leads men's souls to an island alone.
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
Gentle waves reflect
Star undimmed guiding my path
Still as Winter ends
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC
I am big on iambic pentameter
About that I could never lie, since
I pass every poetic parameter
And earned my poetic license
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 8:56 PM UTC
Cats have dreams, or so it seems
Their paws move like Mike Andretti
Chase laser beams on carpet seams,
Or dangling strings of spaghetti
Perhaps they recall catching some small
prey on the ancient Serengeti
And then just doze in a treetop repose
"I'll just snooze until they pet me!"
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
Mr. Tilden leapt from a building
and died from multiple contusions.
Later his wife lamented his life
(quote) he always jumped to conclusions.
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
At the end of a great writer...
"The most important moments are at the end.
10 minutes in youth may be unworthy.
These last moments will make all the difference to me,
but I will not remember one of them."
The newborn speaks and the men listen...
"Is the soul in the mind of the writer, or in the writing itself?
How does our consciousness pass on?"
The old man lays down his glasses the last time...
"I will now sleep and dream, and in the morning I may cry my first."
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC