Animal Poems

A wonderful triolet to the beautiful and unique Panamanian gold frog by Jill Townsend- sadly, this frog is probably extinct. It has not been seen in the wild since 2007.


To the Panamanian Gold Frog


You gesture with a little wave

to see off any new arrival –

other male frogs as brave

as you, who gesture with a wave.

But now the situation’s grave:

a fungus threatens your survival.

Your gesture with a little wave

may not see off this new arrival.



© Jill Townsend





From Alan Nicholls, a message to an ant!


Dear Ant,

you bit my ankle,

your half-back bit my calf.

So when I squash you dead,

you bug! Excuse me if I laugh.


© Alan Nicholls






This message, or, to be more precise, ignored message poem is from Lisa Lopresti of Bristol:


Open the Gate


The young chimpanzee,

Looking at his cousins in desperate disbelief.


The young human humans,

Laughing in delight at the use of sign language.


Mankind’s communication skills,

Now used and understood by other branches of apes.


The outcome ignored.


Trapped in a Zoo with nowhere to go.

The intelligence knows freedom is a goal.

Open the gate he signs,

Open the gate he signs,

The observers uncomprehendingly sign this back.

Understand me he signs,

Understand me he signs –

Frantic with sadness.


© Lisa Lopresti




This poem from Heather F. Reid is a message from an assistance dog, a subject very close to my heart!

Request from a Guide Dog


If we should meet,
please don’t tempt me with treats
or excite me
or jiggle my ears.

Don’t invite me to play
or put things in my way,
I’ve been training for this day
for years.

Don’t stand firm in my route
and shout ‘ISN’T HE CUTE!’
Don’t encourage your dog to say hi.

Though it’s tempting to pat me
you’ll only distract me
so, please, carry on, pass me by.

© Heather F Reid


And more from Heather:

Letters of Apology


Dear black and white cat who I chased up a tree,
why did you hiss at me so viciously?

I didn’t intend to upset you that way,
I hoped we’d be friends and you’d hang out and play.

Well, when I say play, I mean I chase, you run,
because, isn’t that how dogs and cats should have fun?

You’re furry and purry, so, please cat, descend

Your trustworthy Labrador friend



Dear Billy

Your letter was gladly received
as it’s been half a day since I fled up this tree.

Forgive my poor manners, I misunderstood,
I assumed your intention was harm and not good

when you bounded towards me, all bark and sharp teeth;
you were just being friendly? Well that’s a relief!

I’m afraid being chased isn’t really my scene
but if you would like to call round for some cream

and a doze in the sunshine I’m sure I’d like that.

Your neighbourly black and white cat




© Heather F Reid



And here is one from poet Pie Corbett:


Message for the Mosquito who shares my bedroom.


I’m fed up

with the way

you keep me awake.


You wait

till I’ve just turned out the light

and settled down

for a good night’s zizz

before starting up

your irritating whine,


‘Mister Mosquito

is out for a bite.’


At any second

I expect to feel you

puncture my skin

and suck my blood.


Tiny vampire,

I am not your personal

Ketchup bottle.

If I find you’ve settled nearby,

I’ll swat you flat.

Be warned –

go pester

some other

sauce of blood.


© Pie Corbett




Here are two from poet Bernard Young:


To The Great Provider


Dear Great Provider,

This is to thank you

for the delicious cheese

you so thoughtfully provide.

Thank you.



(and I do hope this doesn’t seem ungrateful)

would it be possible to place it

by the side of our hole

and not on the spikes

of the thing that snaps

when we take a bite?

That would be most helpful.


It’s just that,

as you may or may not know,

a member of my family

(my precious daughter to be precise)

has not returned from dining out

and we fear her disappearance

may have something to do

with the fierce snappy thing.

It doesn’t like mice!

(This is not a criticism.

We would sooner pull out our own whiskers

than question your unquestionable wisdom.

We know you move in mysterious ways.)


Once again, Great Provider,

thank you for the wonderful cheese.

It’s irresistible.


Yours humbly and appreciatively,

Montague Mouse


© Bernard Young


A plea from a seal by Paige Elizabeth Turner:


Red Pole


I bleat a plea to the world

as Antarctica awakens from the slumber of winter solstice.


Sun’s rays stretch across the bleached panorama

and paint orange the peaks of polar mountains, once determined as earth’s limit.

Science has since dispelled ancient explorers’ charts;

there is no ‘end of the earth’.

I despair the fortunes of this season.


The flat sea sheds its blanket as icy shores host huddling penguins in communal congregation.

The thrill of brill seduces hunger to their shoal, sustaining summer’s sanguine seals.

Blizzards long swept away, bequeath azure canopy o’er frozen pole

as upon the horizon glints the Mechanical Marine Mammal.


Summer spawns continuous light.

The mating season conjures satellite colonies where I charm my selected harem of seven.

I farewell them to the water’s edge, as I laze and incubate the gift of consummation.

I fret as the Mechanical Marine Mammal ploughs closer to my shores.


Seasons mirror seasons as history repeats.

Never will I eradicate memories of my family’s bloodshed in the reddened waters of nature’s sanctuary.

I am helpless.

No-one will protect me, though many voices try.

Human kindness falters to nature’s slaughter.

A further thousand seals cry, whimper, and gasp their final breath –

their fate sealed by the sealers’ spears.


© Paige Elizabeth Turner 2016