A Treatise on the Burrowing Habits of Dachshunds - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

A Treatise on the Burrowing Habits of Dachshunds

 

A dachshund will burrow under the garden fence

For every dachshund thinks she is a wolf

A fearsome apex predator with a squeaky toy -

This is in the nature of dachshunds

 

A dachshund will burrow into your tightly-closed hand

Nosing out the doggie treat you have hidden there

A fearsome apex predator and omnivore -

This is in the nature of dachshunds

 

A dachshund bill burrow into your end-of-day lap

Watching both the television and the cats

A fearsome apex predator drooling on your book -

This is in the nature of dachshunds

 

A dachshund will burrow, borrow, beg, and bark

And in her foreshadowing of that better World to come

A dachshund will burrow deeply into your heart -

And love you forever

 

This is in the nature of dachshunds

 

And of you

A Busy Dachshund Puppy - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

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

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Busy Dachshund Puppy

 

She leaves you a gift on the kitchen floor

And another on the living-room rug

And barfs up half a frog just inside the door

And barfs again – a poorly-digested bug

 

She bites into cranky old Pepper-Cat’s tail

(Something so twitchy must surely taste good)

And Pepper-Cat spanks her; oh, what a wail!

(Dear pup, there’s a difference between could and should)

 

And in the evening, while you doze over a book

She rests upon your heart, and gives you that look

And her big eyes ask,

                                  Am I your very good dog?

 

Oh, yes

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

Mack Hall, HSG
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.

An October Chill

October, 2012
Mack Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

An October Chill

 

A merry dachshund yaps and leaps for leaves

Wind-blown across the still-green summer grass

As autumn visits briefly, and looks ‘round

To plan his festive moonlit frosts when next

Diana dances ‘cross November’s skies.