Oh, what doth the wintry snowdrift bring?

Two puppies snug in a box of red and green

In an old rusty children’s wagon of blue

Are gifts to greet this Christmas anew

The young pups gaze out over the snow

Toward the house where the windows glow

For there within, a girl and a boy

Await a promised gift of loving joy

Their treasure is adorned with a big red bow

The same used one Christmas, a long time ago

When loving parents to their children gave

Two rescued puppies, whose lives they had saved

Gifts such as these, gifts of life and of love

Are like those given to us, from the Creator above

On that first Christmas was born in the night

A gift given–a child who would show us the light

What treasure will await you, on Christmas day?

What gift from God to you, in the snow doth lay?

~* Kathy Pippig



There is a critter living

In the hills and countryside.

Of strangers he is wary,

from the unknown he may hide.

Though his realm grows ever smaller,

he patrols it still with pride,

‘neath the bright moon, padding softly

with his shadow by his side.

When the sun dips into twilight

the prairie wolf doth give voice,

through the darkness to the night sky,

where the silver stars shine bright.

~* Kathy Pippig



While my body, still and silent lay,

I watch you cry and hear you pray.

But I am not there,

as you tenderly cradle my neck and face.

Your tears still falling,

even after I left your embrace.

Know I am now in another, splendid place.

No more am I tired or wracked in pain.

I’m in a meadow on a sun-warmed plain.

There are hills, flowers, rivers, and grass-covered glades.

Glittering starlit nights and lovely sun-shiny days.

I’m at the Bridge to run and play.

And until you join me, it is here I shall stay.

I loved you then, I love you now.

Though I live here, I’ll visit you from time to time.

You will feel me near and wonder how

I’m doing since I came to the Bridge.

Well, I’m doing as well as can be,

and my love for you glows for eternity.

I will see you when the time is right.

Then, please kiss my face and hug me tight.

And join me on our heavenly flight.

Together we shall ever be,

our love the bond that set us free.

Your beloved furkin (furry family member).

~* Kathy Pippig



On a crisp autumn morn

when the mist fills the glen

and the sun paints the sky amber red,

the fey dance deep in the woods.

In a glen ‘midst the dew covered grass

stands a man wearing plaid

and his pipes are the song on the wind,

heard in the glimmer of a dream.

Bracing cold is the brume

as it flows with the sad notes’ refrain

of the pipe’s lilting tune.

Bracing cold is the breeze

that weaves through the trees

and over the mist in the hollow.

~* Kathy Pippig