Typist: Bethany
Sunday, August 18th is Bad Poetry Day so we are joining Oz the Terrier and Ku of Haiku with Ku's weekend long celebration with some bad poetry by the entire furry and feathery Cascadian Nomads ensemble. Since none of our band of merry bloggers has ever attempted to write any kind of poetry, good or bad, before, I think you are all in for quite a treat! For those of you here for FitDog Friday, hosted by SlimDoggy, Peggy's Pet Place and To Dog With Love, fear not, you are in the right place! Our fit clan couldn't resist typing about exercise even in some really bad poems. So, without further ado, the three canines, two felines and psittacine of the Cascadian Nomads Present, Bad Poetry:
Sunday, August 18th is Bad Poetry Day so we are joining Oz the Terrier and Ku of Haiku with Ku's weekend long celebration with some bad poetry by the entire furry and feathery Cascadian Nomads ensemble. Since none of our band of merry bloggers has ever attempted to write any kind of poetry, good or bad, before, I think you are all in for quite a treat! For those of you here for FitDog Friday, hosted by SlimDoggy, Peggy's Pet Place and To Dog With Love, fear not, you are in the right place! Our fit clan couldn't resist typing about exercise even in some really bad poems. So, without further ado, the three canines, two felines and psittacine of the Cascadian Nomads Present, Bad Poetry:
Typist: Wilhelm
Don't disturb my sleep
I hold it so very dear
I'll sleep anywhere
I'm always up for a walk
But bad poetry let's not
Don't disturb my sleep
I hold it so very dear
I'll sleep anywhere
I'm always up for a walk
But bad poetry let's not
 Typist: Brychwyn A handsome blue eyed corgi writing a poem As a few of my admirers gaze on I write and I wag from the comfort of home Later I will likely nap out on the lawn. So dear friends I have to be honest with you Despite charming blue eyes and debonair smile Instead of poetry I prefer a chew Or to be out hiking or running a mile. Not much longer must I sit at the keyboard I can get on with my exciting routine I'll bark out the window, all toys I will hoard And dig holes while keeping my white fur pristine But this bad poem without rhyming Brychwyn? That, my dear friends, would be a terrible sin. |  Typist: Huxley Hello, my name is Huxley Up-beat and always friendly Xoloitzcuintli's are sweet Lassie was too a collie Everyone is fond of me You've read my bad poetry Typist: Gryphon Rain pours down today On the bed is where I'll stay Unless there's a dog |
 | Typist: Amelia What do you mean I must write a poem? What is a poem? Does it have to rhyme? Do I have the time? Can you throw my ball for me just one more time? Typist: Leo (To the tune of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider," my favorite song) The big birdy Leo went out so we will shout Out came my wings and flapp'd all about Up came my crest and a happy cheer hooray That's all-the bad poetry I have for you today |
If it wasn't really bad, it was at least hastily written because we're on our way out the door for another long road trip/camping trip. Please let us know which poem you think was the worst, best and most fit. We can take any harsh criticisms in stride because we'll be on vacation!
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