Tag Archives: animals

Gang oft agley

7 Feb

The denizens had died weeks earlier

curiosity-killed in the jaws

of traps that snapped vertebrae

like twigs,

they lay with eyes like blackberry grains,

mild revulsion overriding the soft fur’s

invitation to pet.


A mini tragedy, but fair doos:

serves yous right for poaching potatoes

and shitting in the grocery basket,

bag them up and bin them,

us 2 : mice nil.


But opening the drawer was sadder,

the mess of paper, leaves, string,

shredded cotton in patched-blanket squares;,

like a primary school art project,

in pathos.


A nest bereaved of its owners

the body-warmed, soft work

of quiet, secret, darkness hours.

A simple safe haven,

the best laid plan

of nightime scurriers,

and nibblers of potatoes,


“Poor things. Look, they’ve used all sorts.

It seems a shame, you know;

I’ve had worse housemates.”

My dog

2 Dec

Handsome Black Labrador dog on mat

Just thought I would ‘sex up’ my page with a new image, as I’m going to try and insert images along with as many of my posts as possible from now on. This is my black labrador, Mr Finn, peering out from his little lair next to the cupboard-under-the-stairs. Isn’t he handsome?

I haven’t really written a poem about him before (except perhaps a pretty rubbish narrative one that you can find further down this blog). Perhaps I’ll try soonish, when I get some time.

Battlefield Greeting

14 Sep

This is very much a first draft, and subject potentially to drastic changes as I just wrote it today after a humorous encounter that took place while I was walking my dog. Dogs are funny. I hope this poem captures some of that humour. Pointers on length, format, language, etc, appreciated.


With half-foot leaps and ears a-flapping

the threestrong tribe of sausage dogs approached rapidly,

barking across the autumn field.


Their owner’s cries of “heel!” followed the dogs in vain

as they neared the solitary Labrador dog

who waited with ears pricked up in trepidation.


At length the first salami-shaped warrior arrived

to within three feet, from where he barked his battle-cry,

at which the black lab stared mute, without reply.


With his challenge unanswered and his companions in support

The lead tribesman hopped closer on his five inch-high legs

Until he stood right under the his foe’s wet black nose.


He shouted again: “Greetings fellow canine, I am Lord Dashington the despoiler,

(although some call me Timmy,) a proud member

of the great dachshund tribe of fearless warrior hunting dogs.


Famed throughout the world; our name comes from our quarry:

the terrible badger, or ‘dachs’, auf Deutsch,

in the pursuit of whom we are renowned beyond compare.


No dark badger lair is too fearful for I,

or for brethren you see standing not far off,

and as such I challenge you, should you accept


To do battle upon the open field, right here and now.

But before battle commences, I must know your pedigree;

what is your fame and from whence do you come?”


The Labrador had been staring blankly ahead throughout the monologue,

but at this he lowered his head a little, grinned sloppily,

and announced: “My name is Finn, and I like chewsticks,”


Then stepped nimbly around the dachshund,

sniffed its behind quickly, and then turned and lolloped away

across the grass, leaving the outraged sausage dogs in his wake.