James Donovan Poems

We'll begin with box; the plural is boxes;
But the plural of ox is oxen, not oxes,
One fowl is a goose, and two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose is never called meese.
...

A cat is a special gift from God
just a simple ball of fur
who will let you know he's happy
when he thanks you with his purr
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I've often wondered to myself
what causes cats to stray;
are they fleeing from a cruel life
and trying to run away?
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Thank you, God, for harvest-time,
For milk, for meat, for fish,
Thank you, God, for all the food,
I find upon my dish.
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A loved one dies, a wake is held, and friends all euologize
They try to tell you death can be a blessing in disguise
They say it's probably for the best, that this is their belief
They offer you their sympathy, to try and ease your grief
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A question that has bothered man for all recorded days:
is who is God, this entity, we worship and give praise?
Is He a supreme being? Well, depending on your view,
He may be called a lot of things; so I offer you a few.
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Birds are creatures God set free
to roam the sky from tree to tree,
except the small one that I see
just outside my window.
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I’m getting on in years, my coat is turning grey.
My eyes have lost their luster, my hearing’s just okay.
I spend my whole day dreaming of conquests in my past,
Lying near a sunny window, waiting for its warm repast.
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She knows of those who do not care
for paws, and claws, and feline hair.

For kicks she licks the very one
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Today I looked up in the sky
and prayed to God to ask Him why
my precious cat had passed away.
Was it just to teach me how to pray?
...