Kerry Blue Terrier Poems

My Kerry and Me

    Written by L. M. Ward, dedicated to Rockwell's Faith 'N Begorra, aka "FeeBee".
    Submitted by Lisa Marie Wilkins

      We walk along my Kerry and me
      To see what is that we can see
      And as she looks both here and there
      She stops to smell what's in the air

      The birds, the trees, the sights and sounds
      Enthralls my Kerry to leaps and bounds
      She turns her head as if to say
      "Come on my friend, it's time to play"

      She runs so fast paws skimming the ground
      I can't keep up, I must slow down
      Within a blink she's back to stay
      Tail wagging, tongue dangling, Fall in disarray

      She licks my face and snuggles close by
      We sit and watch as geese fly by
      I can't imagine how life would be
      without my friend, my Kerry...and me

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Why a Kerry

    by Mrs. Cyrus B. More, Escondido Kennels, Reg., Santa Fe, NM
    Submitted by Karen Laubach

      DAWN
      He'll take the cows to pasture,
      Check the sheep dogs and the sheep---
      That will give an Irishman
      Another hour to sleep.

      MORNING
      Then he'll mind the babies
      Help Mother with her churn,
      Help Grandma with her spinning wheel,
      Wait, and take his turn
      (When they say 'dinner's ready')

      NOON
      then hell'll trail Father to the Pub
      And join the hunting talk:--
      Oh, he will do his share
      While all the huntsmen gab and drink
      In each old tavern chair.

      He'll flush a bird, or catch a fish,
      Or pull a badger from his hole.
      He'll swim and catch a water rat
      Or dig, and catch a mole.

      AFTERNOON
      He'll cock his head approvingly
      At horses at the far
      Admire Daughter's London hat,
      Or Son's new cut of hair.

      EVENING
      And when the long day's over,
      Before the set of sun
      He'll find, and bite, an Englishman
      Before the day is done

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Kerry Blue Kiss

    As I walked in the kennel with champions around
    There was a litter of Kerry blues all safe and sound

    The smell of the kennel was a bit much to take
    But I knew if I didn't it would be a mistake

    I remember her eyes as if it were yesterday
    The look on her face took my breath away

    She was so beautiful she made tears in my eyes
    I knew then and there she was my little prize

    As she looked up at me an nuzzled with her nose
    All I could smell was a beautiful rose

    So all Kerry Blue lovers please remember this
    There is nothing more rewarding then a Kerry Blue kiss

     

    To Baily Blue

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Silvery Phantom

    Submitted by Barbara Meeker. Author unknown.
    First printed in the Kerry Blue Terrier Club of England Newsletter.

     

      What enchanting silvery phantom
      has slipped into your home
      Almost without your kowing it
      and made the place his own.

      What precious speck of nothing
      has grown into your friend
      from black through blue to silver
      Bringing pleasures without end.

      Who patiently, without a moan
      withstands the faltering, novice comb.
      Those shaky hands, with scissors tense
      He let you learn at his expense.

      Who makes you say "He's been no trouble"
      perhaps our flock we'd better double
      And then before you know it - he
      has made you buy first two, then three.

      And now your evening hearth you share
      With slumbering shapes, entwining there.
      Blue silky coats of varying hues
      Prove you're now owned by Kerry Blues.

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When I got my New Kerry

    Author unknown

    I asked for strength that I might rear her perfectly;
    I was given weakness that I might feed her more treats.

    I asked for good health that I might rest easy;
    I was given a "special needs" dog that I might know nurturing.

    I asked for an obedient dog that I might feel proud;
    I was given stubborness that I might feel humble.

    I asked for compliance that I might feel masterful;
    I was given a clown that I might laugh.

    I asked for a companion that I might not feel lonely;
    I was given a best friend that I would feel loved.

    I got nothing that I asked for,
    But everything that I needed.

    I got an Kerry Blue.

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One for the Kerries

    By Bev Hurst, Copyrighted

    It's a training break-thru you can see
    My Kerry knows the words "watch me"

    Her eyes they never break from mine
    Sends shivers up and down my spine.

    We're ready, sure, to do our thing
    With a confident step we enter the ring.

    From start to finish with not one sit
    She says I never taught her it.

    On the recall she came in like a shot
    Hit me so hard I could barely talk.

    With Irish eyes just filled with glee
    I knew she was laughing right at me.

    Chalk another up for the Kerries today
    That's another leg that got away.

     

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The Dog from County Kerry

Submitted by Marilyn Brotherton from a reprinted of Punch Magazine of February 7, 1923.

    The dog from County Kerry,
    The tousled tyke and grey,
    See how he meets the merry
    And tires them all at play.
    Yet though he's raced and tumbled
    With many a motley crew,
    The proudest shall be humbled
    That slight a Kerry Blue.

    His fathers lived by battle,
    Where crags and lakes and bogs
    And glens of small black cattle
    Had worked for small grey dogs.
    Shrill Poms he'll scorn with kindness
    Gruff Airedales they shall rue
    The day when in their blindness
    They roused the Kerry Blue.

    Dark eyes afire for slaughter,
    White teeth to hold and kill
    Great otters by the water,
    Big badgers by the hill.
    The gamest eighteen inches
    That ever gripped and slew -
    Wise is the foe that flinches,
    That flees the Kerry Blue.

    Ah! pup that came from Kerry,
    Unfriended and unfed,
    To maul my boots and bury
    Your beef bones in my bed.
    You dream of Munster gorses
    But, (here your heart shines through)
    You let my tame resources
    Content a Kerry Blue.

     

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Little Black Puppy

    by Miss Karen Gregg From the July/August 1992 issue of Kerry Klips
    Reprinted from the Kerry Blue Terrier Association of Northern Ireland Newsletter

    Little black puppy, how are you?
    In a brand new world where all things are new
    Yours is the wonder and joy of each day,
    Yours is the world as you gamble and play.

    Yours is the mystery of wind in the trees
    You are at one with the birds and the bees
    You welcome new friends and your mind is such,
    That you love them all--but not too much.

    Yours are the daises that grow in the grass.
    The golden buttercups nod as you pass.
    The butterflies rise and it seems to you
    A perplexing thing for them to do.

    But the present so soon becomes the past
    And you find little trials do not last,
    For life goes on, and you see in your view
    So many things you would love to do.

    Little black puppy, we learn from your life,
    The futility of fretting and strife,
    And pray to be given the grace sublime
    To live in this world one day at a time.

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The Kerry Blue

by PJ O`Brien. Submitted by Diane Ridd.

The Kerry Blue is loyal and true, to his master and his friend,
Through weal and woe he`ll never go, for he`s faithful to the very end.

It`s his delight to pick a fight, for he is such an able dealer;
And few can match instinct to catch, the noiseless prowler or the midnight stealer.

He holds high place in the canine race, with temper so severe;
And he`s a danger to the incautious stranger who in listless moments hovers near.

Yet all readily state. he`s worth his weight, in any kind of metal rare:
For they can depend, he`ll guard till the end, property assigned unto his care.

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Gentle when stroked, fierce when provoked

Author unknown
Submitted by Paul Gygi

Stray dogs and wild birds, rabbits and rats,
These are the lads I want.
Rock gardens and shrubbery beloved of cats,
These are the places I haunt.
My jaws do mean business, my manner is gruff
How I yearn for another good chase!
Oh! Truly it is that I'm rough and I'm tough
And I do keep those lads in their place!

There's a four-legged bully who's living next door,
With only ill manners of note.
Always bragging of "fightin' and winnin'" galore
But I'll have him yet - by the throat.
For I'm of the old "Fightin' Irishman" creed
And stand on my own four strong legs,
Cause Kerries are NOT of that kind of a breed
That's quiet or timid or begs.

My mettle is not of the lap-dog kind,
I'm really not that sort of chap.
A jolly good chase is more on my mind
Or the joy of a Hell raisin' scrap!
I'll hold my own with the best in a fray
And prefer using force to great tact!
Cause I'mIrishand love when there's"Hell to pay!"
And I'm surely damned proud of that fact!

Still, I've got the time for the children at play
Who wander the fields for their joys.
We oft' play our games throwing sticks - half the day
How I love being one of their toys!
But make no mistake - I'm the one that you'll meet
If you happen to find my small friends
For always I sit in the guardian seat
And my protection of them never ends!

On cold winter nights and hot summer days
I nap while the world passes by.
Yet nothing escapes from my motionless gaze
While watching with almost closed eye.
The family cat comes with mischief in mind
I pretend I'm asleep on the floor.
He's stalking me now- we're two of a kind
And he quickly retreats out the door!

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