The real white beard should help his perfect “Santa Suit”. Adding a little coal dust, he headed to the chimney.
“Oh, Grandpa,” she laughed “Don’t you know I am 12 years old?”
Not working today.
Busy week end, tired.
Not working today.
Too much to do.
Not working today.
Running around in circles.
Not working today?
Need off switch for
I wish I had a bowl of soup
Alas, but I do not.
But if I had a bowl of soup
I’d like it nice and hot
But not too hot, just warm enough
To soothe my throat so sore
And if the soup was good enough
I might just ask for more
But since I have no bowl of soup
I’ll make a cup of tea
The herbal kind with lemon
And delightful, sweet honey
I hope you like this little poem
Though it’s not some great verse
Remember, while it’s not the best
I’ve penned, by far, much worse.
Apologies if you’ve seen this before, but I was reminded of it by a small person and thought I would share it again.
I have a special pet
Her name is Harriet
And I found her in a wood some time ago.
She’s been with me for a while
And she really makes me smile
She’s a Crocotiggersaurous with one toe.
When I found her she was small
But now she’s grown quite tall.
To get her in my bedroom is a squee-eeeze.
Her head is very wide
So she turns it on its side
And crawls in through the door upon her knees.
She eats breakfast lunch and tea
Pretty much the same as me
Though she doesn’t like fish fingers (and I do).
She wears daddy’s ancient shirts,
My mummy’s jeans and skirts
And one single lace-up pointy big black shoe.
She can’t come to school with us
So she kicks up quite a fuss
Till mummy has to give her nose a blow.
She is waiting after school
With skipping rope and bat and ball
And we play games until my friends all have to go.
And when it’s time to go to sleep
We snuggle down inside the sheets
And we cuddle and she rocks me to and fro.
She cuddles very tight
And she keeps me safe all night.
She’s my Crocotiggersaurous with one toe.
Since I’ve been talking of and showing art, plus poetry, I thought I’d leave you with a quote from Ovid -
Of its own accord my song would come in the right
rhythms, and what I was trying to say was poetry.
Well lucky Ovid!
Sometimes my ‘song’ comes in the night,
and sometimes rhymes,
but mostly if it comes out right …
the rhyme marches in thyme
by Zach Brokaw
When I’m not dreaming, I write. And when I’m not writing or dreaming, I wake up and go to school. These limericks are the results of me drifting off in English class.
Now Mike, don’t you dare spill that beer,
For if you do, laddie, I fear
I’ll leap off this here stool
And lap up the pool
Like I done at your wedding last year!
Eight syllables are in this line.
Some critics will try to divine
A method to meter
They think to be neater
Than a beat-count that ought not be nine.
The was an old rotter from Cork
Whose beard had a terrible fork -
One day he did cough
like a great raspy chough
And out fell a whole leg of pork.
There once was a man named Fitzhugh
Who wore many a steel-toed shoe.
From behind he did spy
A stalker-like guy;
With shoe, he beat him black and blue.
On the street I once talked with a bum
Who, nearly about to succumb,
Said, “Why don’t you all see?
Of taxes is really quite dumb!”
Sometimes in Lit class I’m ignored,
So then I don’t draw on the board
But write limericks
To quick get a fix
Of a writing style rather abhorred.
If you’d like to try a Rispetto, here are the rules. Shadow Poetry – Rispetto
Here’s my effort, with a bit of frustration and a bit of humor. :)
My Brain (A Rispetto)
It seems that my brain has a mind of its own
Won’t do what I tell it, as hard as I try
The thoughts just keep coming, won’t leave me alone
I’m trying to focus, it leads me to sigh
I’m needing to study, and did just a bit
The dumb doorbell rang, and I said, “Oh, I quit!”
I’ll sit here a moment and take a deep breath
And then get back to it, though it be my death!
This is from SwittersB‘s suggestion on my Name That Abstract Challenge. :) The last one, “Heartbreak”, I forgot to mention in that post, was from nutsfortreasure‘s suggestion. Sorry about that, Eunice! The links are both going under this week’s Poetry Challenge. I’m looking forward to seeing some poems from all y’all! :)
Lizzie the Lizard is chasing her tail
Watching it fly, and through the air sail
If Lizzie should catch it, oh how she will wail!
I do not like a hurricane
A hurricane is just a pain
A hurricane is one big mess
Of windy, gusty, blowing rain
Now Isaac wants to come our way
It may be here by late Tuesday
I don’t like Isaac, I confess
I wish he would just go away
I hope that I’m not sounding rude
But hope we have enough canned food
I cannot find the flashlights yet
If we can’t find them, that’s not good
Okay, so ‘good’ did not quite rhyme
So shoot me, was it such a crime?
I am not perfect, though I try
At least not perfect all the time
I think that I will shut my mouth
This conversation’s going south
I wish the storm was going there
Instead of coming to my houth…HOUSE…HOUSE!
(Wrote this quick poem this morning and read it to my daughter, who said it was very ‘Dr. Seuss like’. :) I like that! Tee hee!)
Shades of Seuss
I cannot be another me
The only me’s the one you see
I wouldn’t even want to be
‘Cause that would mean that I’m not free
Not free to just be who I am
Sometimes a nut, sometimes a ham
Sometimes stuck in a sticky jam
But always me…yes sir, yes ma’am
Yes ma’am, yes sir, it’s a safe bet
Tomorrow I’ll have not changed yet
The same applies to you, my pet
You are the only you I’ve met.
Penny the Cat is ever vigilant. Many hours a day she stares out the windows watching the movements of all manner of life’s twitterings outside. She meows, paces, cants her head this way and that. If she snoozes, it is out of my sight.
So, the other day, I had my camera in hand and there was Penny upside down, spread out, asleep atop a chair. I approached. She snoozed. Odd. I took a dozen pictures. She yawned, she stretched, she licked her paw, she gazed at me through half open eyes. Penny hadn’t a care in the world. The world was moving along outside without her. A very rare who cares moment from Penny.
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