Monday, July 30, 2007

Food

Food can be yummy or old
Food can be good or covered with mold
Food can be hard or easy to hold
Some food is bad for you (like salty things I am told)
Food can be all colors—red, green and gold
Food can be weak and food can be bold
Food can be hot and food can be cold
If you work at a store you get cash because all that food is sold!

The Cricket Parade

Once there was a cricket parade
They heard a band so they sat in the shade
With the music so calm, then so loud!
Making the crickets proud, proud, proud.
But the music got so slow
The crickets starting chirping because . . . I think we all know

Here We Come Chicago

(I wrote this poem on the train ride to Chicago. I don't know why I put the line about kiwi. I guess it makes it kinda funny)

My mom is drooling.
Can she see me?
This is way too serious to me.
Maybe next year we can go to Tennessee.
But, wait a minute!
We’re allergic to kiwi. Or are we?
This is fun. This is cool.
My brother is sleeping—he’s covered with drool.
My dad is sleeping. Or is he dead?
I don’t know. Yeah! He moved his head.
Can you see the lake in it?
They have delicious food like bubba gump shrimp.
Yes siree! Tee hee. Let me see.
There’s big bright lights!
It’s really big.
We’re going to Chicago.
It’s right there, can’t you see?
Let me tell you about her, yes siree!
Hello shopping spree!

Someone is Coming!

Listen good—listen clear
Listen . . . someone’s coming near
Are they over the mountains?
Are they over the hills?
Are they hiding behind the wagon wheels?
Are they through the trees?
Oh! Hold me tight!
I now wonder . . . are they in our sight?
I hear a honk . . . look, there they are!
Oh my goodness! It’s my dad in his car!

The Sky Band

The sky band is very slow
There are no colors—white as snow
The teddy bear is on his drums
The monkey man can point his thumbs
My friend sees planes and so do I
And a bug on a leaf—maybe he’ll fly
I see some bees—okay, only one
My friend sees five
And I see the sun!

Do-Do-Do

Some people don’t believe that I can fly
Some people just want to touch the sky
Some believe I’m a sweetheart
Do-do-do
Kick it up at noon at the rodeo
I’ll put on a wonderful show
I’ll round ‘em up, I’ll touch the sky
I’ll crack this nut and walk on by
Some people believe I can’t climb a tree
Some people just keep starring at me
Do-do-do

A Poem for You

Life is a danger
Is a knife
Is a risk
Is a wonderful piece of a puzzle
Love is Your life
For us

The Twiddle Out My Window

One night you sing of twiddle-dee
To sing that night of magic thee
But the whistle sound of pushing power
It does not come this very hour
You say your prayers then say goodnight
The twiddle-dee from my window sight
I love to sing of twiddle-dee
From the pushing power—the mouth of me
I whistle to make this beautiful sound
The magic love is finally found

Spring is Sneaking Up on Me

Spring is sneaking up on me
It is sneaking behind that tree
Look for tree buds—growing pears
Look for bunnies, growling bears
Listen careful, listen good
I see birdies fly—I wish I could!
Spring is funny sometimes with the fun
Spring is sneaky—just like the sun
It stays longer every night
The moon is sneaking at its height
Summer’s sneaking—now I know
After this comes fall . . . then snow

Magic

I love to read
My Father is like me
Because He’s always happy
I glow at you
See it in the night
Imagine every day
If magic was that
Go, wish, fly, dream . . .
Together
With Family