Tag Archives: opossum

Poetry, Writing

Opossum Hammock

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(Poem 158 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/7TnOut

Every opossum should have a hammock
for the purpose of reclining and lounging.
They spend the night mastering feats dynamic,
then cleaning little hands after scrounging.

Their weary bodies need 18 hours of sleep,
so it’s amazing we ever catch them awake.
A suspended soft perch ensures nary a peep,
as they dream of eating cake and a steak.

Yes, every opossum deserves a hanging bed
where they can climb to a safe, warm retreat.
There they can nestle and rest a tired head
to nap in peace and dream of sweet meat.

@Home Studio – 158th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Opossum Hammock photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Ninja Opossum

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(Poem 151 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/xAJK2w

My opossum Joey Koey
is a secret ninja at night.
He goes on special missions
guided only by moonlight.

When we’re all asleep,
safe resting in our beds,
he’s off saving the world;
we’re scratching our heads.

How does he get out of
his kennel all on his own?
How does he get the jobs?
Does he talk on my phone?

Who out there needs saving
by an adorable marsupial?
His ministrations are sincere;
he’s persistent and dutiful.

I’m sure he has his reasons
for sneaking around and all,
for using his claws and tail
to make sure he doesn’t fall.

I have to trust he knows what
he’s doing and will be alright,
while I sleep safe and sound in
my bed and he’s out all night.

@Home Studio – 151st poem of the year

Runner ups for the Ninja Opossum photos to accompany my poem:

Health, Poetry, Writing

Joey Koey

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(Poem 97 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/Nv2ueX

The dogs alerted me to an intruder they
captured in the backyard this morning.
One of my dogs grabbed the joey when
I went to pick him up, but then released
him on command and seemed perplexed
that I wasn’t pleased with their efforts.
His tiny body fit in the palm of my hand;
it seemed rigor mortis had already set in.
Then I realized he was still slightly warm,
and was that a slight heartbeat I felt?
That smart baby opossum was playing
possum, and it probably saved his life.
There I went down a rabbit hole on the
internet, or should I say opossum hole?
What do they drink, eat, need, and how
do I begin to care for a pouchless baby?
Darkness, quiet, snacks, warmth, soft
towels, and a secure cardboard box.
The dogs are very confused as to why
I’m caring for the enemy, but keep
sniffing the odd creature curiously.

@Home Studio – 97th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Opossum photos to accompany my poem: