Whoever thought a body part,
Could run and win a race,
Especially without arms or legs,
And stuck onto my face.
Its endurance is remarkable,
And speed is quite profound,
Running non-stop day and night,
With jumping, leaps and bounds.
You'd think it would've proved it's point,
And stopped to rest by now,
But my runny nose just won't stop,
To rest or take a bow.
A yellow bird with three-foot legs,
Gypsies stealing rotten brats,
A bunny poopin' chocolate eggs,
Vampires who fly like bats,
The monster underneath my bed,
A fairy thief who stole my tooth,
Krampus behind Santa's sled,
The troll under the attic roof,
I'm sure these are a made up lot,
To frighten kids and keep them straight,
But I don't buy it -- not a jot,
I'm much too smart to take the bait.
But Santa on the other hand,
Who never once has brought me grief,
And brings me presents very grand,
Is surely worthy of belief.
When you're young you know it all,
The world seems black and white.
Complex issues broken down,
Devolve to wrong or right.
But vision blurs with heightened age
The crispness fades away,
Hardened edges smear and smudge,
Sharp contrast blends to gray.
Living lessons teach restraint,
In judging others deeds,
Right and wrong still hold their ground,
But leave space in-between.
Would you like to be a bird,
And fly up in the sky,
Dart around the puffy clouds,
And soar up oh so high?
Eating worms and slimy things,
Pecking bark for grubs,
Munching fleas and bottle flies,
And other kinds of bugs?
Would you like to be a bird,
The sovereign of the sky?
If you do, so please yourself,
But as for me... Not I!
A pickle puss and sour sucker,
Sam was such a boy,
That nothing ever pleased him,
Nor gave him any joy.
When given treats and candy,
He would fret about his teeth,
When taken to a movie,
He complained about his seat.
The swimming pool was much too cool,
The hot tub much too warm,
The sofa cushions way to soft,
Rain showers were all storms.
Then one day a passing man,
Questioned very loud,
If there could be anything,
Of which Sam would be proud.
Hearing this Sam wondered,
Just what it was he liked,
And smiling he concluded
The brillig brinds had long died down
The wabe had gone to sleep
The slithy toves their gimble drown
The mome raths lost their peep.
All the shorf was calm and geep,
A peaceful fugel filled the air,
But calmness only runs so deep,
Around the monster's lair.
Young Jabberwok the mighty heir,
Had grown into a beast,
And sought our former hero fair,
On his heart to feast.
In fraptuous fields his mind would dwell,
He'd pace from flomp to flounce,
His sire's words remembered well,
"When scrundled you should pounce."
So lurking out to seek his foe,
Gnashing
This slimy sludge from who knows where,
Slithers coldly off the spoon,
Then down my throat disgusting goes,
So foul it makes me swoon.
They say this stuff is good for me,
Will make me tall and strong,
Will give me muscles piled high,
And hair grow lush and long.
But 'seems to me that all of them,
Are more than common plain,
Giving me no evidence,
To support their claims.
The living room has changed its form,
No longer holding to the norms,
Established by society,
Of taste and propriety,
For a room of this design,
Should have an aspect most refined.
But today a troop of clowns,
Looted blankets all around,
And with them built a monstrous tent,
In the space for adults meant,
Pressing benches, chairs and all,
Into service as the walls.
The comfey couch with bouncy seat,
Is used by one who's planned a feat,
As a vault to launch him high,
For a trick none else would try,
Soaring high in flips and twists,
Watchers
Skip-de-doodle, hop along,
Sing yourself a nonsense song,
Loud and proud with power voice,
Any words - they are your choice,
Holler higher than the trees,
Hear it echo if you please,
Squawk like chickens laying eggs,
Thump the ground with dino legs,
Chirp and roar your heart's content,
Heeding not who's ear is bent,
Not a care what others do,
Sing it simply to please you.