One Morning

One morning, I woke up with wings
Such mighty, elegant of things!
But then I noticed – just my luck
I’d grown a beak just like a duck
I crawled back in bed, and wondered, “Who really
Wants to fly around looking so silly?”

One morning, I woke up to find
The most beautiful music composed in my mind
But when I sat, and tried to write
It took me hours to get it right
I closed my book, and asked, “What song
Is really worth working on for so long?”

One morning, I woke to find my brain
Could solve any problem with little strain
I bragged to the mailman, but when I was done
He asked if I knew how to cure his son
I went back inside, and groaned, “If more
People knew of my gifts, they’d all beg at my door.”

One morning, I woke up with dread
My body could not leave my bed
No matter what muscle I tried to shift,
My limbs simply refused to lift
I closed my eyes, and cried, “What a sting!
Now my life will never amount to a thing!”


There are two hundred sixty-one kids in this line
Two hundred before me and sixty behind
I guess that it must be a pretty cool slide
If two hundred sixty-one kids want a ride

There’s only two kids on the swing set today
They must feel so lonely, just swinging away
But nobody else wants to go swing along
I guess that the swing set must have something wrong

But wait! At the clubhouse — they’ve got a new line!
The line to drink water is longer than mine!
Forget slides! That water must taste pretty great!
I’ll hurry to get there — I really can’t wait!

The Odd Shoe

I have a third shoe

That’s odd, you may feel
But I call it ideal
No, it hasn’t a pair
But I really don’t care
For if I must leave a hint
To be found by a prince…

I’d prefer to walk home wearing two

The Story of the Beast, the Baker, and the Bell

“Another story,” begged the child, “I want to hear one more!”
The father said, “That’s what you told me after the last four.
And now my limbs grow heavy, and my eyes are feeling sore.”
The child would not be satisfied. “I want to hear another.”

The father stretched and sat back down, and said, “Oh very well.
It just so happens that I have one more story to tell —
About ‘The Story of the Beast, the Baker, and the Bell.’
But if you hear it, I must warn you, you may not recover.”

“What do you mean?” the young one asked, becoming more excited.
Said Dad, “It’s not a tale for those who are easily frighted.
I’ll tell it to you only if you’re totally decided.”
The child said, “Yes, please tell me, Dad! Now – I can’t wait to hear it!”

“The story is so gruesome, child, that when it was first told,
The very air inside the room began to grow quite cold,
And people screamed and quaked, no matter whether young or old.
Are you sure you’re ready?” Child said, “Please! I do not fear it!”

“The next time it was told,” said Dad, “It had become more scary.
The room was filled with shadows cast by monsters huge and hairy,
And no one there could sleep for weeks, they had become so wary.
I really shouldn’t tell it, should I?” “YES!” the child did yell.

“But after folks had heard it twice,” Dad said, “They couldn’t stand it.
They quickly got their government to pass a law that banned it,
And anyone who told it would be swiftly apprehended.
I’d get in trouble!” But the child said, “Please, I’ll never tell!”

“One day, a father (much like me), he told it to his son.
The lights grew dim, but Dad went on, until the tale was done.
A burst of flame, a puff of smoke, and then – the Dad was gone.
I’m scared the same might happen!” But the child said, “No, it won’t.”

“The police searched and hunted through the room where Dad was taken.
They found a note, which said, ‘Three times, the monster world has shaken.
The story’s been told three times. On the fifth time…we awaken.’
Perhaps I should stop telling now.” The child demanded, “Don’t!”

“Well then, of course, as you can guess, the tale was told once more.
The room shook, and the lights went out, and flames leapt from the floor.
The fires spat, and curled into three words: ‘That makes four.’
So if I told it now, that would be—” “Five,” said child, “I get it.”

“The people fled the town and all the stores there quickly folded.
That was two hundred years ago.” The child cried, “Wait, now hold it!
How can you know the story? You weren’t born the last time they told it!
You never knew the story! All this time, you were just toying!”

“Of course I haven’t heard it,” said the Dad, shaking his head.
“I just told you about the story, which is all I said.
And now I’ve done so! So, my child, it’s time to go to bed.”
The child smacked him with a pillow. “Geez, Dad, you can be so annoying.”

Mirror Goose Pt. 2

You tricked me once
It wasn’t nice
It was much worse
To be tricked twice
I still have hope
When you open the cupboard
Empty again?!
Curse you, Mother Hubbard!

When the king called his men, we assumed it was war
But instead all we found was an egg on the floor
I suppose that he thought we’d bring useful resources
But that doesn’t explain why he sent all these horses!

You do not need your arms stuck out
You really do not need to shout
Did you really think we thought
That you’d turned into a teapot?

Contagious for Sure

(I’m home sick today, so I’m doing this instead.)

I have a cold, my nose is stuffed
My head is sore, my voice is gruff
And just as if that weren’t enough…

I’ve also got a touch of flu
Pneumonia and arthritis too
But wait: my troubles aren’t through…

I’ve got this horrid, screeching cough
I sneezed so hard my tongue fell off
It did! I wish you wouldn’t scoff…

I get it, you think I’m a fake
But trust me, it’s a huge mistake
To ask for a sip from my milkshake


Nobody writes poetry
About the avocado
Yet, I think, in honesty
That people really ought to

It may not be a luxury
Like truffles, figs, or dates
Versatile as summer squash
Or elegant as grapes

Who’d extol its mashy pulp?
Its sole, imposing pit?
Be so kind to praise the rind
That guards the rest of it?

It must be said: as dip or spread
Or mighty guacamole
You may not sing a song for it
But I endorse it wholly.

I Hate Word Problems

If I have seven dumb word problems
And my friend has eight
Then what time will we finish? Answer:
Much, much, much too late

If they take me an hour each,
And I do every one
Then how long will it take me? Answer:
I’ll never get done

If I must finish before bed,
And still eat food somehow
Then how much TV can I watch? Answer:
I’m already watching now