This is a collection of poetry that I wrote for a children's book years ago. I partnered with a great illustrator, Linda Pigman who created the pen and ink illustrations.The book will be similar in format to Shel Silverstein's, "Where the Sidewalk Ends". Each poem contains a kernel of a childhood memory. I am currently seeking a publisher for this book. If you know of anyone who may be interested please let me know, the art is done as well.
The Mean Lady On The Porch
She’s so old and mean, she sits and stares
watching us with her icy glare
Is she mad at us for bouncing a ball
Or is it because we’re four feet tall?
Does she frown at us girls and boys
‘cause we make far too much noise?
Sean says she’s just plain mean and so does Matt
They said if she smiled, her face would crack!
Tanya told the story and Chris approved
Of how the lady once had her smiler removed!
This all seemed so silly, I thought to myself
As I put the ball back on the shelf
There was a flower in the yard
I picked it, sighed and swallowed hard
And walked up to her, saying with a smile
Hi, I’ve lived next door for quite a while
I’m glad I’m your neighbor and just want to say hi
then a tear streamed down from her eye
After we talked a while I saw she wasn’t mean
Sometimes people aren’t what they seem!
Red Rubber Ball
How I wish I could be a red rubber ball
Ben could bounce me, then I’d be tall!
Curt could kick me and have lots of fun
I’d roll along faster than people could run!
Brooke would dribble me ‘til I got dizzy
During recess is when I would be busy!
It all sounds like more fun than one boy can take
Besides, a red rubber ball can’t eat chocolate cake!
Secret Playground
Tucked away where no one can find it, it’s our own space
my playground, your playground, our own special place.
Grown-ups can’t find it ‘cause they’ve forgotten the way
Most of them think work’s more important than play
Me, I’ll keep coming here to slide down the slide
Whoosh we race down as we giggle inside
My stomach gets queasy as we teeter and totter
If I could only explain to my mother and father
How much fun can be had on one simple swing
It sparks my mind to imagine incredible things
While climbing on top of the huge monkey bars
I pretend I’m a spaceship floating high in the stars
Let’s never forget the way to our own special places
that once painted bright smiles on our tiny faces.
Wake Up Juice
Six o’clock in the morning is way too early
I’d rather sleep one more hour and have to hurry
My eyelids are droopy, the world is all fuzzy
The sun isn’t even up but the alarm clock’s buzzing!
I’d be loose as a moose, or is it a goose?
If I could just have one sip of wake up juice
The dark brown juice that fills dad’s cup,
Its aroma fills the air as the steam floats up
It wakes dad up fast and makes him alert
But he says I can’t have it cause I’m just a squirt.
The First Snowflake
The sun hangs high in the morning sky
In the cooling air the first snowflake flies
It flutters down for all to see
and gets lost among the fallen leaves
it’s not long before his friends arrive
more tiny flakes from Autumn skies
like diamonds shining pure and bright
they glitter in the morning light
the air grows brutally frigid as North winds blow
and the leaves get lost beneath the snow
if all is well and all is right
and this continues through the night
we’ll dash for the door, mittens in hand
to begin this Winter’s first SNOWMAN!
Snuggle Monkey
When I’m feeling down, in need of a hug
When the world has no sympathy, he’s never smug
I just call his name and he’ll be right there
he’s much hipper than some stuffed bear!
He doesn’t like bananas or swinging from trees
Brussels sprouts, gingerbread, spiders or fleas
Just put on some music and watch him get funky
He’s the one and only snuggle monkey
He’ll break into song whenever he pleases
And likes to say, “Bless you” when anyone sneezes
He never makes a mess, or gets me in trouble
I’m so very glad I have a monkey to snuggle!
A Fat Cat For A Hat
As Tammy lay down to go to sleep
She cracked her book, sipped her tea
And smiled as she looked at me
She had a fat cat for a hat
You see, after she lay down in her bed
a fat cat wrapped himself around her head
and got himself warm while she read
She had a fat cat for a hat!
her auburn hair was nice and soft
as he snuggled in and drifted off
on the nightstand her book was tossed
she fell asleep with a fat cat for a hat!
Bookloft
There’s a wonderful place with rooms to roam
thirty-two to be exact and each feels like home
it's the Bookloft, nestled in the Village
Be careful, for if you lose your way
You may wander lost for many days
and read about everything from pies to plays
in the Bookloft, nestled in the Village
Follow red brick streets and you’ll be there
have the courage to go where not many dare
Start the journey of knowledge and lose your cares
in the Bookloft, nestled in the Village.
Shy Sly
Shy sly was so shy
that he would close his eyes
whenever he saw a stranger
but shy Sly, the poor guy
feel into a hole, why?
he never did see the danger.
Edgar’s Bike Shop
Whether it’s a big red bicycle with a old rusty chain
Or a small tricycle that clickity-clacks like a train
Before you give up and throw it away,
ask Edgar to fix it, he does everyday
Ask any kid on the block and they’ll tell you the way
there’s no sign out front and he’s not open everyday
If you’re lucky Edgar will be in his garage with jumpsuit and wrench
Leaning over a bent up old bike clamped to a green wooden bench
There’s no wheel that’s too crooked or flat tire he can’t seal
If he’s in a good mood you’ll get a great deal
handlebars will be fixed for a few jellybeans
chocolate bars will get you miraculous things
most days he’s quiet grumpy to tell you the truth
but his mood is improved right through his sweet tooth.
The Barber’s Secret
Barbers now for many years,
instead of cutting hair, have lowered ears
once you’d see a pile of hair on the floor
but no you won’t see that anymore
they’ll tap the end of your ear with a comb
quietly mumble their magic barber’s poem
and quickly each ear slides down an inch
so fast it makes fooling you a cinch
Barbers now for many years,
Instead of cutting hair, have lowered ears