My dog is a cloud that floats calmly in the sky.
But clouds taste like puffy marshmallows changing shape.
You see her come up to you her tail curled
As you finish your cool sweet refreshing drink
For she silently makes no noise for you to pet her
Her fur is silky to touch; her ears feel velvet
With a scent of coconut from recent bath rises up
As you bend down to breath her fur.
Her fur you hear vibrations with each stroke.
Near Handel’s Ice cream is where she is
Meeting a girl named Emily.
Clouds do not taste like marshmallows but they are puffy.
My dog might become a therapy dog some day.
Low key my dog will go to anyone.
Every time she see people she wants attention.
“Your dog is sweet and cute” I hear all time;
“But you don’t know she use to be a puppy mill dog.”
The charming Shiba dog of growth is what she has become
As I am upon the shores with no confidences.
I tried to tell my dog to lay down to wait for ice cream.
Bookworm waits patiently as dog is being petted.
My dog will pass her therapy classes with ease.
My harmonious dog just want to love everyone around her.
She is a social dog who wants be out in the world;
Mohaya ori no nakade wanai.
Wind sing their praises of my dog now free from puppy mill life.
Clouds drift calmly by on warm a summer day.
Can we go take a car ride?
I want go shopping at store
I’m ready for a joyride
Shiba staring at car door
April 5th Prompt: Try the Filipino tanaga poem, four lines of seven syllables in each line. Originally, the rhyme was the same for every line (aaaa) but the modern tanaga sometimes mixes it up, aabb or abab or however you wish. Like haiku, the tanaga is not traditionally titled.
My furry muse I am sorry I haven’t written often
My mind was in a state of nothingness
For I couldn’t find the words to write
In poetry or prose or a simple story
My days were also filled with work
Where I cannot write anything there
I also adopted a new pet, my muse
She fills my days in want and attention
She will never replace you, my furry muse
Now the fog has lifted; I can write again
My days have calm; I can write again
April 2nd Prompt: Write a poem that is an apology to your muse, explaining why you aren’t there writing oftener, better, more clearly, passionately, universally, and/or eternally.
He is scared.
Shy with brown eyes;
What to think;
A new environment.
He is black and tan
He is a foster dog
Going to spend
A normal dog.