My Excuse

I didn’t do my homework

but I have a good excuse.

Last night, just after dinner,

our dog got on the loose.

He ran out of our open gate,

so what else could I do?:

I had to chase right after him,

so down the lane I flew.

That dog ran to the playground

and so to stop his run,

I acted like my goal was not

to capture him — but fun.

So I jumped on the monkey bars

and climbed and swung around.

Butch thought I’d forgotten him

and then sat on the ground.

My plan was going beautifully,

but time I had to bide,

so close to Butch I slowly moved

by playing on the slide.

That dog now lay upon the grass

and I began to sing,

pretending I was full of joy —

then I moved to a swing.

I swung and sang and sang and swung

til Butch was fast asleep.

At last, I thought, the time was right

and from the swing did leap.

I leapt beside that sleeping dog

and grabbed him by the collar.

Butch jumped up but couldn’t run.

“I’ve caught you!” I did holler.

So we got home at nine o’clock,

the time I go to bed,

but cause my homework wasn’t done,

I thought that I was dead.

Then I remembered, Mrs. Blake,

you love your dog, named Bruce.

Yes, you’d have done the same as me,

and that is my excuse.


A dreadful thing occurred one night

that’s still hard to conceive,

and once I’ve told you all the facts,

I’m sure you won’t believe.

My family all was tucked in tight

and dreaming, I’ve no doubt,

but then, at once, we all awoke —

there’d been an awful shout!

It was my sister, Maggie Sue,

who’d screamed out in the night,

and we all ran to check her out

and soon turned pale with fright.

For there sat Maggie in her bed,

a hand mirror in her grasp;

it was the sweet girl’s little face

that made us stare and gasp.

Yes, that poor child was sure a sight,

the worst I’d ever seen,

for there upon her face were spots —

some pink, some blue, some green!

So Dr. Roberts soon was called

and soon we heard his knock,

and when he saw our Maggie Sue,

his look was one of shock.

He said, “My word! How could this be?

She has a case of mungle,

a rare disease that’s only seen

deep in the darkest jungle.”

He said, “Those spot must be removed

or she’ll grow deathly sick.

The trouble is the only cure

is in a lion’s lick.”

And so we all drove to the zoo

for therein lived the cure,

and soon we stood at Leo’s cage

and listened to him purr.

The nasty details that come next

of screaming and great fear,

nice folks, like you, I do expect

would rather never hear.

An hour later, Maggie’s face

was spotless – smooth as cream!

And thankfully, the child’s convinced

t’was all a frightful dream.

Ten Fingers

I had a math test yesterday;

the test was awfully tough.

The trouble is ten fingers are

just simply not enough!

For three plus four, my fingers worked —

I counted up to seven.

But how the heck do fingers work

when counting to eleven?

For ten plus five, I shook my head;

yes, me it did confuse,

until I had the good sense to

remove my socks and shoes!

The Worm

To prove my love to Laura Woods,

she made me eat a worm.

She pulled a fat one from the dirt —

you should have seen it squirm!

“If you love me,” Laura said,

“you’ll eat it, I’m quite sure.”

She brushed a little dirt from it —

the next part is a blur!

I took that worm from Laura Woods

and opened my mouth wide

and then remember nothing more,

no matter how I’ve tried.

Laura said I ate the worm

to prove my love was true,

but why I ever loved that girl —

now I have no clue!

Hocus-pocus Pon

Melvin the Magician

came to our class last week,

and from his hat he pulled a toad

which we all thought was neat.

Next, he said some magic words,

“Hocus-pocus pon!”

And right before our very eyes —

that poor old toad was gone!

I’ve memorized his magic words,

“Hocus-pocus pon!”

And doubtless, I’ll soon use them

on my stupid brother, John!

My Cat Life

This is Tommy – a cat we loved from long ago!

I’d really like to be a cat,

and sleep throughout the day,

or maybe I would just decide

to spend my time in play.

No one would ask if homework’s done.

My job would be to purr,

and if I got ambitious, well,

I guess I’d clean my fur.

The only problem, I suspect,

my cat life would include,

is that I’d have to somehow eat

that horrible, smelly food!

Big and Tall

I’m eating lots and lots of food

so I’ll grow big and tall.

You see, I just don’t have much fun

since I am short and small.

My best friend Hank’s an elephant

who people sure admire.

Folks always stop and stare at him;

of Hank — they never tire.

If I grow big and tall like Hank

a zoo will be my house

and folk will come and stare at me

and say, “That’s quite the mouse!”


I have a bunch of freckles

and I used to hate those spots

because I’m always getting bugged

about those wretched dots.

My sister loves to tease me

saying freckles multiply.

My brother says when I was born,

the doctor splattered dye.

My parents say my freckles mean

that I’m a special kid.

They’ve felt more like a punishment

for something bad I did.

But now I’ve new perspective

and with freckles I’ve no gripes,

for just this morning, at the store,

I saw a kid with stripes!

Doggy Dreams

My dog is sleeping on my bed

deep in a doggy dream.

He’s woofing every now and then

and running, it would seem.

His paws and legs are twitching lots

and watching him is fun.

I can’t help wondering what it is

that causes him to run.

Could it be an alley cat

that’s teased him into chase?

Could it be another dog

that he is trying to race?

He must enjoy just running round

with that dog or cat,

because he never runs awake

for he is old and fat.

The Opera

Mom took me the the opera

last Saturday at eight,

and soon I did discover,

it’s something that I hate.

The singers sang in voices,

I sure thought sounded bad,

and half the time those singers,

sure looked boiling mad!

The songs were in Italian,

so who knows what they said.

Then after intermission,

a singer was found dead.

The rest sang round his body

and acted really sad,

except for one fat singer

who smiled like he was glad.

His smile upset the others,

who frowned and waved their spears,

and when I looked at my mom,

I couldn’t believe her tears!

I figured that we’d soon leave

since Mom looked so upset.

I whispered, “Are we leaving?”

She whispered, “No, not yet.”

From there, things sure got ugly.

In fact, there was a fight!

That was the only part of it

I sort of liked all night.

The singer who was so fat

fought all the guys on stage,

and all the while those guys fought,

they sang — despite their rage!

Yes, opera’s quite confusing,

and my friends say I’m right!

There’s no guy in a million years

who’d sing while in a fight!