BEDTIME

By Kelly McGuire
Every night as I lay down in bed,
I have to fight for a place on the pillow for my head.
I try many different angles without much success,
As my pug groans and snorts it's distress.
She has her spot and will not move.
So I try for a place that she will approve.
When at last I find the spot by which she'll abide,
I try to roll over onto my side.
To my surprise what do I discover?
Another pug between my knees under the covers!

THE PERFECT DOG

I am really, the perfect dog
I bare no resemblance at all
to the greedy pig and the heavy hog
I do not snore, nor do I snort
My tummy is trim, and oh so taut
I do not burp, nor do I fart
How should I know what happened to that pineapple tart
I do not scream, nor do I shed
All that fur comes from your soft bear Ted
I ate your furniture, yes, but so what
You were really geting into a rut
I am respectful of your space
I only need to get into your face
Ok, so I tried to eat a frog
Apart from that, I am really, the PERFECT DOG

THE PUG OF PUREST GOLD

A Pug's your pal for always,
Through cloudy days or fine;
He'll lie stretched out besides you,
And curly tail untwine.
Perhaps your world's gone haywire,
And things seem far from fair;
To him it matters little
So long as you are there.
This chubby bundle's waiting
In failure or success,
And from his warmth of welcome,
Great wealth you can possess.
He's one of life's great treasures,
Whose value is untold,
For every Pug is minted
From fine and purest gold
- Author unknown

Pugolatry

By Horo Hodson
Within the centre of a rose
My eye, in fancy, doth impose
The dear crinkles of they face-
Ah yes! in truth in ev'ry place:
Within a blanket's crumpled fold
Thy furrowed brow I do behold,
and even o'er a dish of tea
The teapot speaks to me of thee
and sugar tongs Thy legs suggest.
Sweet put, my eyes now never rest
On anything or anywhere
But thou imagined art there.
The whorled temple of the snail?
Fern crozier'd tip? The curly tail!
Owls, agile spiders, otters, seals,
Frogs, bumblebees-each swift reveals
A pug to my enslaved soul.
Throughout this world from pole to pole
All that can walk or fly or swim
Finds part of thee in part of them.
Thus, though Thy life may little be,
Love builds thine immortality.

Go to more poems.