A Dachshund Dreaming of Rabbit for Supper - DOGgerel

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

A Dachshund Dreaming of Rabbit for Supper

 

My little Luna-Dog has a bad habit

Of chasing after her back-yard rabbit

 

But still let not your mind be troubled or fraught

With fear for that rabbit who is never caught!

The Cosmic Inertia of a Six-Pound Dachshund - short poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The Cosmic Inertia of a Six-Pound Dachshund

 

Why is the resistance factor

In shifting a six-pound dachshund

Who does not want to be shifted

Greater than that of tons of iron?

Weary with Dachshunds - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Weary with Dachshunds

 

Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 27

 

With an improving book I go to bed

                   (as P. G. Wodehouse said)

And two improving dachshunds on my pillow

                   (as Wodehouse almost said)

They then begin their journey at my head

Wriggling down to my feet and back again

 

They slurple messily from my bedside glass

And crumple up my copy of Hercule Poirot

Neither slows: they lick my nose, they tickle my toes

And will they finally doze? Nobody knows!

 

But

 

When comes the midnight moon, then all in a cuddly heap

Their little doggie noses snuffle at last in sleep

An Indignant Dachshund - rhyming couplet

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

An Indignant Dachshund

 

When my little dogs stops and p**ps and p**s

She expects a little privacy, please!

When Astrid Commands, Her Servant Obeys - rhyming DOGgerel

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

When Astrid Commands, Her Servant Obeys

 

When a six-pound dachshund wants your attention

She will have it (it goes without mention)

When Dogs Don't Wanna be Dogs - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

When Dogs Don’t Wanna be Dogs

You send the pups outside to play
This so-soft, sunny summer day

The yard is big and safely fenced
A paradise nicely condensed

And there the dogs have cats to chase
Bugs to eat, and each other to race

Soft rubber toys to squeak and chew
Bowls of water and dog-food stew

And naps to take beneath oak trees
Tummies up in the soft, soft breeze

And yet –

As soon as you have let them out
Then all they seem to do is pout

Unhappy with their vast estate
They glare at you and seem to hate

They hate the cats, they hate their toys
You have denied them all their joys

They bark and scratch at all the doors
They’re kinda cute – like sophomores

Two Kiddie Pools in the Back Garden, with Honeybees and a Dachshund - doggerel with a real dog

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Two Kiddie Pools in the Back Garden,

with Honeybees and a Dachshund

The dachshund loves her kiddie pool
The honeybees love theirs
The dachshund splashes to get cool
The bees mind their affairs

(Honeybees cannot launch from water, so I keep freshly-cut leafy limbs in their pool.)

That Happy Little Dachshund Dance - poem

Lawrence Hall
mall46184@aol.com

That Happy Little Dachshund Dance

All dachshunds dance their days in happiness
And shake their bodies, tails, and ears about
And thank their humans every doggie day
With puppy kisses and yappings of joy:

     For cats to chase, for beds to muss
     For grassy lawns on which to play
     Hoovers to bark – oh, what a fuss!
     And your pillow at the end of day

For dogs still live in Eden, and that is why
All dachshunds dance their days in happiness

A Dachshund Among the Leaves - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

A Dachshund Among the Leaves

For Liesl-the-Wonder-Dachshund, of Happy Memory

A merry dachshund yaps, and leaps for leaves
Wind-strewn across the still-green summer grass
As Autumn visits briefly, and looks around
To plan his festive moonlit frosts when soon
Diana dances across November’s skies.

Counting Dachshunds - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Counting Dachshunds

Some people go to sleep by counting sheep
But I instead must count two dachshund pups
Who are not comforted by box or crate
Or fluffy towels upon the bedroom floor

Astrid and Luna commandeer the pillows
By right of conquest over human hearts
And there recline like princesses royal
Throughout the watches of the dreaming night

O sleepy little carnivores, you bless
Both nights and days with doggie happiness!

Central Standard Dachshund Time - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Central Standard Dachshund Time

Turn back the clock, but not a dachshund’s tail
Since dog and tail will turn right back again.
And then around three times, and without fail
She’ll want outside, and then –
She’ll want back in

To spin, for that is what a dachshund does
A doggy dance, a prance, and all four paws
Buzz, and where she is isn’t where she was
In violation of space-time and Newton’s laws -

On Saturday night we turn back the clocks
But there’s no winding down a baby dox

Cuddly Carnivores

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Cuddly Carnivores

 

Why do we humans cuddle carnivores

Give names to yapping little quadrupeds

Who growl at socks and shoes and closet doors

And rumple all the covers on all the beds?

What possible use is a dachshund pup

Who chews whatever her tiny teeth reach

And what doesn’t digest comes right back up -

Little dogs are impossible to teach!

But in my arms my Astrid softly snores:

That’s why we cuddle baby carnivores

Happiness Visible

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Happiness Visible

A dachshund pup is happiness visible
Now tumbling, chumbling through the fallen leaves
Now sassling, hassling the hissing prissy cats
Now pausing in mid-bark to gnaw a paw
Now testing the dynamics of wind-flying ears
Now stalking the tasty beetle through the grass
Now chewing thoughtfully the tasty beetle
Now barfing up the not-so-tasty beetle
Now leaping to the next adventure in life
And somehow all at once – happiness visible

High Noon at the Bird Feeder

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

High Noon at the Bird Feeder

A little dog, a streak of dachshund red,
Across the grass speeds to a squirrel’s doom
She wants its blood, she wants its flesh, she wants it dead;
Ripped, shredded, and torn, it will need no tomb.

The fat old squirrel, a fluff of forest grey,
Is unimpressed by doggie dementia;
To Liesl’s grief he leaps and climbs away -
Never underestimate the Order Rodentia!

Liesl’s squirrel clings to a low-hanging limb
And chatters abuse at the angry pup
Who spins and barks and spins and barks at him
Laughing among the leaves, and climbing higher up.

So Liesl snorts and sneers, and marks the ground;
She accepts not defeat, nor lingers in sorrow;
For Liesl and squirrel it’s their daily round;
They’ll go it again, same time tomorrow.