Children’s Poetry and Other Things
Rules really get me down;
they make my life a drag,
‘cause rules make the grown-ups tense,
and make the grown-ups nag.
Say “please” and “thanks” and “pardon me”;
chew quietly as able.
Don’t ever stare at other folks;
no elbows on the table.
At school, walk and never run;
in class, don’t talk with friends.
The list of “don’ts” goes on and on;
in fact, it never ends!
There is one thing I know for sure,
a source of much regret —
it’s there is not a single rule
that I cannot forget!
I’m watering the garden
on orders from my dad.
I’m soaking all the carrots
and really feeling glad.
The water’s like a sabre
I’m flashing high and low,
and while the sun is shining,
the water sure does glow.
But now I see my sister
who’s with her stupid friend
who always looks at me and smiles
and says, “How are you, Glen?”
Those stupid girls are whispering —
I sense the subject’s me,
and now they’re really giggling
and making sure I see.
Those girls are really stupid
cause everybody knows —
a boy is sure to get revenge
if that boy has a hose.
Last night I went to babysit
a little boy named Ted,
and everything went really well
‘til I said, “Time for bed.”
Ted looked at me and shouted, “No!”
and then ran from the room.
I called his name, got no response —
my mood, now one of gloom.
To the kitchen I then went
and there stood little Ted,
holding up a dozen eggs
high above his head!
“Come on, Ted, give me the eggs.”
He lowered them right then,
and from the carton, took an egg
and clucked just like a hen.
He said, “I’m going to throw these eggs
unless I get to play.
There’s no way that I’m going to bed,
so now what do you say?”
What would you say had you been me?
I’d never felt so cross!
All I knew is that I must
continue to be boss.
“I give up, Ted. I’m going home.
Just tell your folks — I quit!”
You should have seen his little face
as I put on my mitt.
He started crying really hard —
t’was music to my ears!
He put the carton in the fridge;
and couldn’t control his tears.
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll go to bed.
Don’t leave me all alone.”
I looked at him a long, long time —
he gave a little moan.
“Okay,” I said, “but not a peep,
so off you go to bed.”
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll go to sleep”,
and to his room did head.
Thinking Ted would throw those eggs
was honestly quite tough,
and I’m just grateful Ted’s so young
he couldn’t detect my bluff!
My sister’s learning how to cook;
Mom makes us eat each meal,
and cause Meg needs “encouragement”,
we can’t say what we feel.
Dinner used to be a time
when I’d relax and eat,
because my mom’s the greatest cook,
so each meal was a treat.
My sister’s meals are not like Mom’s,
despite the fact she tries.
She always makes a huge mistake,
and then she screams and cries.
“It’s fine,” Mom says. “It still tastes good”,
but that is not the truth.
Yes, just last week, when Meg made buns,
one nearly cracked my tooth!
I’m really tired of choking down
her latest recipe,
and if Meg doesn’t soon improve,
then I’ll need therapy.
Yet her bad meals, I realize,
should give me some relief,
cause I will need “encouragement” —
yes, that is my belief.
Tomorrow is a special day;
reports cards we will see,
so Mom must say, “It’s still quite good”,
when looking at each “D”!
Kenny was a drummer
and he was only four;
that’s why when once you heard him,
you hoped to hear no more.
He had no sense of rhythm,
but thought he sounded good,
and so he played as loudly
as his drum set could.
He crashed and banged each hour,
so happy in his youth,
and cause his mother loved him,
she couldn’t tell him the truth.
He really sounded dreadful,
and she was driven mad,
but thought of a solution
with help from Kenny’s dad.
They bought their boy an easel,
some paper and some paint,
and Kenny took to painting
with simply no complaint.
His drum set was forgotten
and soon it disappeared;
cause while he painted madly,
of drums his memory cleared.
His pictures sure have color
and have a certain style,
and though he is no artist,
they make his parents smile.
These parents learned a lesson,
and what, indeed, they found
is though paint sure is messy,
loud colours have no sound.
The reason that I’m mad today
is cause my mom won’t let me play
until my room is neat and clean.
That’s why I think my mom is mean.
And so I’m standing by my bed;
my piles of junk fill me with dread.
What to do with all this stuff
makes my decisions really tough.
What should stay and what should go?
That’s the problem — I don’t know!
You see, I simply don’t have space
for all the things to have a place.
Two hours later, you can see
my room is tidy as can be.
Cleaning’s hard and time sure drags.
What really helps is lots of bags.
Mom’s been shopping all the while
I’ve cleaned my room and now can smile.
I couldn’t decide what I should trash
so took those bags and hid my stash.
It’s down beneath the basement stairs,
far from all parental glares,
hidden in the crawl space gloom.
Now I can play — I’ve cleaned my room!
We’re taking down our Christmas tree
cause holidays are done.
Tomorrow is a school day
which means I won’t have fun.
I won’t be watching Christmas shows.
I won’t be sleeping late.
I won’t be eating candy canes.
My days won’t feel that great.
I hope the time won’t be too long.
I hope the months go fast,
so Christmas will be “coming soon”
and not be in the past.
But, for now, I’ll sit right down,
and tears I will resist,
and, for Santa, what I’ll do
is start my next year’s list.
My New Year’s Resolutions,
are right here on this list,
and judging by the number,
there’s nothing that I’ve missed.
I’ve said I’ll walk the dog each day
and pick up all his poo.
I’ve vowed I’ll get my homework done
and even study too.
I’ve promised I’ll no longer tease
my little brother, Jake.
I’ve stated I will shovel snow
and grass and leaves, I’ll rake.
I’ve said I’ll make my bed each day
and keep my bedroom neat,
and with that final promise,
my list is sure complete.
So now I sit and watch the clock;
my New Year’s list is done,
but acting like “an angel” means
that next year won’t be fun.
I made myself a sandwich
and cause I thought I could
make the best one ever
with all things that taste good.
I put those things on white bread
because I love each one —
mustard, pickles, relish,
and honey, just for fun.
I loaded on some slices
of good old cheddar cheese
and ran out to the garden
and got myself some peas.
I put on some baloney,
and then some marmalade.
This sandwich was to be
the greatest ever made.
So when it was all ready,
I took a big, huge bite,
and as I chewed my sandwich,
the taste was just not right!
And so I’ve learned a lesson
cause really — I’m not dumb —
my sandwiches taste best of all
when they are made by Mom.
“The Magic Running Shoes”
My mom bought me new runners,
and they’re the brightest blue.
I also think they’re magic —
there’s nothing they can’t do!
I’ve noticed that they make me
run faster through my days,
and when I’m playing baseball,
I make the greatest plays.
It really is exciting
to have these running shoes,
but cause they make me play so hard,
I think I’ll take a snooze.
