Animals make such faithful friends. Find short poems about pets. Your pet is always happy to see you, they are happy to do whatever you want to do, they wait patiently for you, they always have lots of love no matter what you do.
They say dogs are man's best friend and in the majority of cases, it is true. But all pets give us
companionship and love. Share these poems with your friends who love animals!
And I recall a sunlit day
When all the world was mine
The peace of mind experienced
To walk the sea-shore-line
To hear the gulls, to watch them soar
And skim the surging tide,
Just self and dog, Man's faithful friend
To keep watch by my side.
We've walked the roads o'er hill and dale
With many a mile between
And many a bonnie place have found
And many a thrilling scene,
Yet even though the clouds
Would sometimes sunlit moments hide
My ever patient, faithful friend
Kept sure watch by my side.
And thus it is, a bond of trust
Between my friend and I
Reward indeed to warm the heart
And clear the jaundiced eye
So many have, not seeing that
Such caring can confide
Unspoken words, such friendship
Ever faithful by my side.
And thus take heart all who despair
And know but lonely days
For dogs are very special friends
And wondrous in their ways,
They bring a joy, a healing power
That shines out far and wide.....
The ever patient, faithful friends
To keep watch by your side!
The Power Of The Dog
Poet: Rudyard Kipling
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it’s your own affair—
But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long—
So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Poet: Kate Summers
Man's best friend is a dog you say
But other pets can also be
A family includes pets in every way
They love us more than you can see.
An example of unconditional love
Can be from a dog or from a dove
Cats are loving on their terms
But their purring their love confirms
And birds will always sing
Happiness they can bring.
So no matter the type of pet
Love them and don't fret
You will find they love you back
With you, they have made a pack
To be a part of a family
A friend forever happily.
He watches other doggies pass; and knows they're going to the park,
Where they can roll upon the grass and race and bark!
The same procession day by day. How proud that huge Alsatian seems;
The park is but a little way - he, too, has dreams.
Here comes a terrier, mad with joy; he bounces like a rubber thing!
It's nice to trot beside a boy when it is spring.
Ah! here's that jealous, petted peke, and spaniel, gentle as a lamb;
That whippet looks an awful freak with nurse and pram!
So many doggies pass him by. He will not look, he must sit still
And serve without a growl or sigh his master's will.
He presses close to that loved knee, an arm shoots out and holds him tight.
And master whispers lovingly, 'My precious sight!"
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
I open the door and a happy greeting
Gives me an appreciated feeling.
Tail a wagging and a bark or two
It doesn't matter what I do
This animal is happy to see me that is true!
I can never feel lonely or sad
He makes me feel missed and so glad
He looks at me with those big brown eyes
And when I move he also will arise.
Oh my faithful dog, so true
With you around, I never feel blue
You never question or complain
I couldn't ask for a better companion.
A Part Of Your Family
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
A part of your family they will be
A pet loves more, you will see
They are an expression of love
Sent to us from above.
They never get mad
They are rarely sad
They greet us morning and night
When they see, their eyes do light
They will always be faithful
And they are so playful
Striving each day
To make you happy in every way!
I’ll Never Forget a Dog Named Beau Poet: Jimmy Stewart
He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn't come at all.
When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.
Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.
He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.
He set the house on fire
But the story's long to tell.
Suffice it to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.
On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The Old One and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.
He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.
But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
And would follow him where he was bound.
We are early-to-bedders at our house -- I guess I'm the first to retire.
And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.
He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I'd give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I'd fish it out with a smile.
And before very long He'd tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner In no time at all.
And there were nights when I'd feel him climb upon our bed
And lie between us,
And I'd pat his head.
And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh and I think I know the reason why.
He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he'd be glad to have me near.
And now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.
And there are nights when I think I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
But he's not there.
Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,