family

Adventure Day

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There’ll be no time for play today.

Because today’s adventure day.

We’re off to clean grandma’s shed.

Door so low dad bumps his head.

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Lots of stuff for us to see.

Each thing has its own history.

There’s: rakes, shovels, mowers and pails,

Tires and wheels, old boat sails.

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A big and rusty nut-less bolt

And a shoe for a shoe-less colt,

Sleds and skis, skates, paddles and oars,

Broken windows and old wood doors.

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Crates and bins, barrels and jars,

guitar made from box of cigars,

Dad’s reaching for things up high.

Mom thumbs a scrapbook, tear in eye.

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The treasure’s you find when you look;

cushion for chair and long lost book,

toy box from when dad was a kid

with missing hinge and broken lid.

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I had to put that one aside.

To fill with treasure that I’ll hide.

And keep it safe for mom and dad

with memories, adventures had.

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Sheds empty, our jobs half way.

Sifting and sorting all long day.

Next are lunch and maybe a nap.

Then spend some time on grandma’s lap.

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To the street go things we don’t use;

hand less clock and half pair of shoes.

Forgotten treasures go away.

Some I’ll keep while others will stay.

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It’s grandma’s play house in the shade.

But in the yard five piles we made.

One to save, two we don’t know,

one’s maybe, the small one can go.

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So many things for grandma to do,

when our shed adventure is through .

She can paint pictures or pot plants,

maybe yoga – go in a trance.

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A final sweep and all is clean.

The nicest shed I’ve ever seen.

Now’s time to put back things to keep.

All stacked neat, not too high or deep.

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The dust is gone that made us sneeze.

But no space left for new hobbies.

Dads hurt his back, moms tummy aches.

From our lunch of burgers and shakes.

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But grandma’s happy and me too.

We’re all glad the mission is through.

Our adventure had, job well done.

Memories made of having fun.

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Dad’s old chest safe under my bed.

Memories tucked safe in my head.

And now’s time to say goodnight.

Adventure’s done, out goes the light.

~*~

The End

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Shades

Another day, another time,
what will be tomorrows rhyme?
A rocky past has taken its toll.
Still wonderful people surround my soul.

My head still filled with uncertainty.
And always will be, but that’s just me.
My words fill pages no one will see.
Pencils get shorter, I wish they were free.

Another day, another time,
life’s hard while dreams sublime.
My heart’s thawing from winters long.
My eyes see both right and wrong.

Moments are filled with surprise.
Youth traded becoming wise.
To question this is wiser still.
The time will come, I know it will.

Another rainbow in shades of gray,
another time, another day!

~*~
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Empty Lot

Our empty lot’s not empty at all.
There’s a tree that’s big and tall.
It’s a place that kids love to share.
It’s on my street so mom needn’t care.

We spend sunny days in the shade.
There’s lots of dreaming in forts we made.
There’s bunches of dirt to dig deep holes.
Rainy puddles for toy fishing poles.

Our empty lot really has it all,
We hide and seek and sometimes play ball.
It’s the place where adventures begin.
A fence to keep the city out and us in.

We’ve bugs and spiders, squirrels and cats.
There’s soft grass to sit for quiet chats.
We see dogs on leashes and birds in the sky,
Some tweet, sing sweet, bark, run and fly.

There’s rope jumping girls and running boys.
Everyone brings their favorite toys.
Weeds make jungles for our tiny men.
Tiny cars get lost, then are found again.

A place on Sundays for dads to mow.
A place anytime where friendships grow.
When the days fun is done, we all say goodnight.
To our good old friend, under the street light.

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A Lonely Princess

Where rocky cliff meets stormy sea,

a castle perched, forever be.

Where gray stone surrounds little seen sky.

‘Twas this fortress a young princess cry.

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The princess post birth, her parents delight,

treasured by day, guarded by night.

Feasting with jesters, ponies, puppets and maids,

a gaggle of servants draw bright velvet shades

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With sentry of knight to share all her dreams,

her eyes shut tight to hide her screams.

Time wasted limitless, she wished for an end.

The princess was lonely without a true friend.

..

One morning awoken by a kiss from a queen,

sleepy eyes opened to a sight seldom seen.

Golden light sparkles in diamond pane rare,

a sapphire morn burns black coal night air.

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A tasty breakfast served on tray in bed.

Downy pillows fluffed to rest her head.

The king arrived more jolly than ever,

with riddle to solve, if anyone clever.

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“What may have wings cannot fly.

Holds a heart yet cannot die.

Shaken pitch laughs off rain.

Having one a princess to gain?”

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The joyous young girl made many a guess.

The kings’ piddling patience grew less and less.

The queen and knights all had a try.

The king muttered “castle!” with a loud sigh.

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The room bemused by the riddler’s zeal.

Most unconcerned with how others feel.

A castle repeated in more pleasant a tone,

a home for a princess to call her own.

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But first a short trip outside the wall,

where grass tickles feet and trees grow tall.

There are lessons to learn from tutors wise.

There are truths to see with growing eyes.

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Now’s time a princess must prepare,

for the eventual call of a prince to be dear.

A someday king awaits his throne,

whence you shall rest upon your own.

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The princess knew the day would come,

a bartered prize as was her Mum.

No fairy tale endings for spawn of kings.

“Tis a life shackled with heavy gold rings.

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Adventure awaits, no time for self-pity,

freedom’s short locked in a stone city.

Knowledge abounds beyond heavy gates.

The princess skips past on worn ancient slates.

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Beneath a fine bonnet of satin and lace,

excitement glowed on her adolescent face.

Her velvet shoes barely touching the dirt,

a merry cyclone a-swirl in silk skirt.

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Her mentor soon waves from path by wood.

Magical flora beckons, some bad, some good.

Wonders overwhelm in green forest lush.

An ocean of emeralds painted with brush.

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With each lash a-flutter bursts a new color.

Light and shades multiply them all more.

With the thirst of a sponge she did explore,

where surprises abound when not looked for.

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A gentle breeze blew, a little leaf flew,

bright sky filled in the space anew

A ray of sunlight kissed a shiny stone.

Atop a bed of dewy leaf it rests alone.

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With a tiny tap upon its shimmering side,

the distant fates of two collide.

Surface cracking on this egg thought stone,

a heartbeat wakened with thunderous tone.

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Out popped a plump lump, beneath wings of scale.

A pat on the rump exposed its long tail.

A final stretch thrust shell shards to leaf.

And there lie a creature beyond belief.

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Warm smiles shared with a new friend.

A precious little pearl, the girl’s to defend.

The gazes shattered by a howl from the trail,

‘twas the elderly teacher, impatient and frail.

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The princess knew what had to be done.

The babe hid under her bonnet and bun.

Down the path she ran back to the gate.

Yelled to the guards “The teacher was late”

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Gates barely open she slipped through the crack,

escaping notice of the tail down her back.

Safe in her chamber they shared the night’s meal,

both sharing puckers with fresh lemon peel.

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Then swathed in plush robes, kissed on the head,

the fledgling was tucked safely under the bed.

Each night passing, more robes to conceal,

this teething tot with big teeth that’s real.

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Each day growing from the princess’s scraps,

she grew thinner, now padded with straps.

The servants grew nervous at both the sight,

one lie near weightless, one flew in the night.

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The princess’s secret though soon was known,

when her expanding friend went out alone.

The knights became dazed by armored flight,

their swords no match for the hunger of night.

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The king and queen where too nearly maimed.

Pawns, bishops and rooks where all to be blamed.

A wizard was called to tame the toddler beast.

His tenure cut short when almost a feast.

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The creature now huge, truly loved the girl.

She called her Sunshine, the princess’s Pearl.

Together they frolicked on the castle rooftop.

The king spying danger called for a stop.

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Shouting “time’s come to put childhood behind,

It’s now time to marry, I’ve someone in mind.

He’s brave, sweet, wise and kind, at least I’m told.

There’ll be time to adjust as you both grow old.”

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Escorted by king to a royal coach and four,

off to be locked behind another gilded door.

Her fate was sealed by a noble families need,

alliances grown with common regal seed.

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But with a twist, jerk and a naughty giggle,

the squiggly princess was free now to wiggle.

Breaking free, running fast, past all unaware.

She zigged and zagged toward the rooftop stair.

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Screaming loudly for her only friend Pearl,

who tried to save the much pursued girl.

A guard with a pike held Pearl on a chain.

Blocking the Sunshine’s escape of the reign.

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Seeing her friend at the top of the stair,

Pearl snapped her links then into the air.

The petrified guard fled from his post,

grabbing for Sunshine he’d surely be toast.

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The princess ran to the edge of the roof,

yelling to Pearl, she feared aloof.

The big eared beast sharply turned about,

hearing her Sunshine’s gloomy shout

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The king with guards, knights and queen,

Stormed to the roof unprepared for what’s seen.

The princess looked back, blew a kiss to her mother,

and a warm thoughtful wave to all the other.

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Then with a carefree step she disappeared.

Plunging to her sudden death, or so was feared.

The mortified lookers all lunged for the ledge.

Hoping the princess landed safe in a hedge.

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The king peeked over, not wanting to see,

when up rose his honey like a big bumble bee.

She hung from the neck of her dear friend Pearl,

now bonded for life, this dragon and girl.

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Higher she climbed with a dragons eye view,

a view to be viewed by a very small few.

Now all surveyed, now all her realm,

Sunshine’s the captain, Pearl the helm.

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Over forest and mountains, ocean and stream,

free in a world where she need not dream.

Adrift on her Pearl upon the endless sea,

Alone they now be in their realm of fantasy.

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The king broken-hearted wept in his sleep.

The queen stricken ill with never a peep.

They later agreed to bare a new heir,

whether girl or boy was not a care.

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The next child’s fate was sure to be better,

born free of mind and trappings that clutter.

With a loving heart nurtured by family and friends,

then given the choices to choose their own ends.

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The princess returned in time for the birth.

The kingdom was full of merriment and mirth.

The princess enchanted with her friend who flew.

And all ends happily as fairy tales all do.

 *

The End

Sck121418

Bad Vacation

Forbidden Pool2

Vacation’s soon and I can’t wait.

On the calendar mark the date.

Planning and dreaming all long year

Soon our vacation will be here.

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I started to pack weeks before.

A few clothes and toys galore.

I need a lot for our long stay.

But mom repacks it anyway.

*

Alarm didn’t work, taxi was late.

With seconds left we made the gate.

Sat in the plane with no fresh air.

Waiting for bad weather to clear.

*

Hours wasted then off we fly.

Wings wobble, we bounce in gray sky.

Black night rain, runway wet and slick.

Vacation starts, we all get sick.

*

We landed late our luggage not there.

Just full of clothes, I didn’t care.

Late night taxi cost us double,

Big tip needed for his trouble.

*

Get to our rooms, sun starts to rise.

Daylight’s wasted with closed eyes.

Day one of vacation’s now done,

Hope the next six will be more fun.

*

But first a shower then some rest.

Than out for breakfast that’ll be best,

Eggs and juice, toast with warm butter.

Opened the door our hearts flutter.

*

Toilets broke, no shower at all.

A sign on door said tub down hall.

Beds were unmade, hot water cool.

Mom’s mad, dad joked about the pool.

*

We went to the lobby to protest.

Stood in the line with all the rest.

The man at the desk did all he could.

Some of the guests didn’t treat him good.

*

Threw down his pen, could take no more.

Grunting and shouting ran for the door.

“Hotel closed” he said running out.

Leaving us stranded, all in doubt.

*

Where would we go, where would we stay?

Yet another bad vacation day.

We found a place, it wasn’t cheap.

But we needed a place to sleep.

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Cramped and dark but at least clean.

The tiniest bathroom I’d ever seen.

Just two beds, no TV at all.

One small window looked at a wall.

*

Settling in to rest our eyes.

Then off to lunch in clear blue skies.

But halfway there it starts to rain.

My jackets gone, left on the plane.

*

We ran fast to a place nearby.

Sitting soaked on stools too high.

Fish only menu, not for me.

Hours passed drinking pop, refills free.

*

Bellies bloated, day spent.

The sun came out and down it went.

Saw a movie we saw before.

Back to our rooms, locked the door.

*

Much the same the rest of the week.

Sun came out once, we caught a peek.

Went to the beach, waters to cold.

A bad vacation getting old.

*

Good news came later that week.

Luggage found but in Chesapeake.

Put back on plane, soon to leave there.

They’ll be back late, we won’t be here.

*

Trip soon over saw a new place.

Lots of ant bites, rash on my face.

Dad lost his watch, mom caught a bug.

Stuffed plastic bags with things to lug.

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Our ride to the airport, not much fun.

Stuck in traffic in the noon day sun.

Bad vacation was had this year.

Being home soon is all I care.

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One good part of a trip gone bad.

Is getting home and being glad.

Vacations done, better next year.

You go and have fun, I’ll stay here.

*

The End

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Too Cold To Go Outside

I woke today – weatherman lied.

I rolled over and I sighed.

Couldn’t sleep, eyes open wide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

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There’ll be no swing set or slide.

There’ll be no walk or bike ride.

There’ll be no kites to be flied.

It’s too cold to go outside.

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Today we have to play inside.

We’ll think of things never tried.

Stocking feet on floors we’ll glide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

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We’ll build a fort for us to hide.

We’ll play dress up – you be bride.

Explore jungles – I’ll be guide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

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Time to dig a path that’s wide.

Getting dressed, boot laces tied.

Wind so stingy I almost cried.

It’s too cold to go outside.

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All’s warm, coats hung to be dried.

Find crayons, colors I’ve eyed.

Draw pictures for the fridge with pride.

It’s too cold to go outside.

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Icy world all is gray sky-ed.

Plants droopy, looks like they died.

Bay frozen we’ll see no tide.

It’s too cold to go outside.

~

Now sleep, teddies at my side.

Cold nights end, take it in stride.

Spring soon then winter we’ll chide.

When not too cold to go outside.

~*~

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A Christmas Tail

sleepy town

Chapter 1 ~ The Beginning

All’s quite this early winter’s night.
Embers fade in the candles dancing light.
I was thinking of Christmas, many years past.
Those fond old memories’ now fading fast.

I recalled when our home came alive.
I was just a small girl of about five.
It was a grand old house for mom, dad and me.
Sat perched on a hill overlooking the sea.

It’s still a museum in our little town.
It was built by a General of historic renown.
Shared with his bride Martha, she had a sad life.
The General’s a hero, she a young widowed wife.

h varnum door 2

We cared for the house and gave the tours.
All year long we opened our doors.
We welcomed the guest to step back in time.
So come on in and share our rhyme.

I lay awake and tossed and turned.
Thinking of school and all I learned.
Letters and numbers and new friends,
I hope kindergarten never ends.

My thought disturbed by shapes on the wall,
a moonlit dance, shadows big and small.
It pranced to my table that’s set for tea.
There’s a seat for Teddy and Dolly plus one for me.

It climbed the chair with a dancer’s grace.
She must be a girl with a whiskered face.
Dolly left some crumbs on her plate.
When I remembered it was too late.

I Left a treat each night for a week.
I tried staying awake to catch a peek.
I’ll call her Martha, like our homes bride
But when I giggled she ran to hide.

Chapter 2 ~ New Friends

The days passed, she’d visit most nights.
She kept unseen until I turn out the lights.
She knows I’m cozy in my warm bed.
She smiles and winks, thankful she’s fed.

One night I waited, still in my chair.
Starlight warmed the chilly night air.
Eyelids dropped like the falling moon.
I hope my visitor gets here soon.

Night turned to day, feet cold on the floor.
I missed my friend but goodies no more.
The next night I brought a cookie to bed.
I woke with my new friend by my head.

Days got colder, Christmas was near.
I looked forward to the snacks we share.
Each passing night our friendship grows.
We chat and laugh, I scratch her nose.

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Thanksgiving’s past, Santa’s on his way.
The tree goes up, brighter each day.
We’re happy to welcome all our new guests,
while I wore my new colonial dress.

I tell them of the homes long past,
Of all that’s lived here, my family last.
I tell them of their history.
But never a word of Martha and me.

On the last day of school before the break,
we celebrated with carols and cake.
We shared cards and hugs then on our way.
We’re off to the bus and our long holiday.

Glad to be home, much to be done.
Baking and wrapping with mom will be fun.
I think Christmas is the best time of year.
There’s lots of visits from friends far and near.

Chapter 3 ~ Good and Bad

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It’s not just gifts that makes Christmas best.
It’s all the excitement, no time for rest.
One snowy day mom and I went to town.
Main Street’s so merry, never a frown.

When we returned from our last minute shop,
we saw a truck with a light on top.
A man in a hardhat talked with my dad.
They both spoke quietly and looked very sad.

My parents whispered, thought I didn’t hear.
Something’s was broken too much to repair.
Said we’re leaving, where they don’t know.
I loved our home and didn’t want to go.

I gave the last tour on that very sad day.
We finished our cocoa with little to say.
Mom read aloud then kissed me goodnight.
Dad tucked me in, turned out the light.

I lay sobbing at the loss of our house.
No new friends, no Martha the mouse.
I then had a plan and ran for my bank.
Shook out the coins and my little heart sank.

Martha came close, she knew I was sad.
I forgot the snacks but she wasn’t mad.
We counted my pennies in moonlight,
then crept downstairs later that night.

We tucked my bank under the tree.
It’s for our old house from Martha and me.
But one last thing and then back to bed,
a snack for Martha and a pat on her head.

My dad woke me early that Christmas day.
I knew he was sad, he smiled anyway.
We met mom in the hall, headed downstairs.
We all acted happy while holding back tears.

 

Chapter 4 ~ New Beginnings

The cookies were gone, Santa was here.
Beneath the tree, present are there.
But shocked to see something I’d never seen.
There are stacks of coins, sleeping mice in between.

They ate Santa’s cookies then took a nap.
All snuggled together in the Christmas wrap.
Sleeping soundly until mom screams.
Then all were awakened from their dreams.

Martha stood out front and winked at me.
She waved me over to come and see.
The piles of treasure they found last night.
That was lost under the floorboards out of sight.

The Generals treasure, his coins of gold.
There’s enough to fix our homes splendor of old.
Martha saved our house and Christmas too.
She helped write this rhyme to share with you.

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From all of us here at our house of fun,
we’re glad to have shared our time as one,
We wish you the all best this holiday.
And may all your days be just your way.

The End

Steve Kittell 120114

 

My Christmas Eve

The day was frigid with snow piles high;
reindeer would never ever try to fly.
I hoped I wasn’t missed by Santa’s speeding sleigh.
Who can be called to postpone Christmas day?
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I looked out the window at snow all day.
It was a day too cold to go outside and play.
Stores were closed and phone lines were down.
Street lights were flickering all over town.
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Dad read some books and we played with blocks.
Mom knitted dad new Christmas knee-socks.
Our oven was warm so I sat close in my chair.
I was waiting for cookies for us all to share.
~
Our Christmas Eve had now just begun.
But supper was first before more fun.
The radio played softly out in the hall.
Eve, our shepherd chewed on her ball.
~
While sipping cocoa, I got foam on my nose.
Dad told a joke about a nose that glows.
Mom stacked some presents, but just a few.
She put Grandma’s aside, I had two.
~
We all went to bed with our flashlights ready.
I got tucked in and snuggled with teddy.
I couldn’t sleep thinking of all the snow.
And how Santa could see where he should go.
~
But when he gets here, he’d need a rest.
A warm comfy chair would be the best.
Maybe more cookies will help him to sleep.
So I slipped out of bed without a peep.
~
I went down to the kitchen on tippy toe.
The night lights flickered from the wind and snow.
The hallway was dark, it seemed longer than before.
The handle looked higher on the old kitchen door.
~
With each step a creak that sounded like “nooo…”
Each step I take I thought I shouldn’t go.
But go I must for old Santa’s sake.
Even Santa must need a break.
~

I’m sure he has other places to go.
How he does it I’ll never know.
But I’m glad to lend him a helping hand.
So he can have a rest that wasn’t planned.
~
Before I knew it the handle was near.
Reaching up I turned it without fear.
I opened the door and to my surprise,
Eve stayed asleep and didn’t rise.
~
I stepped softly past her moonlit bed,
then over to the cupboard just ahead.
I smelled the cookies hiding up there,
too high to reach with just a chair.
~
I felt all around in the dark of night,
looking for the stool with a height just right.
One more step and my stool was found.
I stubbed my toe but made no sound.
~
Eve stayed asleep on her warm cozy bed.
I quietly limped to the goodies ahead.
I climbed up on the stool so I could see,
then reached for the cookies for Santa and me.
~
The night-light went out and I couldn’t go far,
my hand was stuck in that cookie jar.
But with a wiggle and jiggle and lots of stress,
I freed my hand and with not much mess.
~
I put the jar back up high where it goes.
I closed the lid tight so no one knows.
Then I was frozen in that one scary spot,
doing something I should have not.
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The floor seemed far and I felt small.
Slowly I sat, afraid I would fall.
Then Eve’s wet nose nudged my back,
a welcome touch when all was black.
~
We both snuggled in Eve’s warm, cozy bed,
her big drooling mouth rested on my head.
I woke up wet but toasty warm.
I was happy we survived the storm.
~

On the window sill our old cat lay.
She’s the first to see a bright new day.
She ate the crumbs I left on the floor.
Then back to her sill when there was no more.
~
I gave Eve a hug and thanks for last night;
she kept me safe when there was no light.
My cookies were crumbled all over Eve’s bed.
Though meant for Santa, now Eve’s instead.
~
She gobbled her snack and left no trace.
And when she was done she licked my face.
Then mom rushed in, glad I’m all right.
I told her about my plan for last night.
~
She wasn’t pleased, that I could tell.
She gave me a hug when I thought she’d yell.
Dad soon came in scratching his head.
He asked us why we were all in Eve’s bed.
~
Mom told him the story of my planned surprise.
Dad listed the reasons why my plan wasn’t wise.
I said I was sorry and from now on I’ll be good.
And I’ll sleep with Eve every night as I should.
~
Mom and Dad said later on we’ll talk.
Let’s first stand up and we’ll take a walk.
I followed them quietly with Eve by my side.
We got to the living room and I almost cried.
~
Santa had come and saved Christmas day.
But the presents can wait, Eve wanted to play.
We played together and now I believe;
Christmas is best with my Christmas Eve.

~*~
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A Gift of Sixty-Four

Fancy wrap can’t hide from my eyes,

A gift that’s familiar in shape and size.

It’s the present that I adore.

They’re the toy that’s never a bore.

*

They’re a box of possibilities,

a forest full of Christmas trees.

A blanket of snow and garlands bright,

with a flicker of lights in the night.

*

They’re singing birdies just for me,

or a sailing ship on a stormy sea.

They’re autumn play and a summer breeze,

the colors of spring and buzzing bees.

*

With this one gift I’ll need no-more.

It’s a box of sixty-four!

There are colors for sad and more for glad.

They’re all perfect and none are bad.

*

What endless choices to be found.

But what is the color of sound?

What is the color of a kiss?

I’ll someday find those colors amiss.

*

They’re jewels in a treasure chest.

Something shared with a special guest.

We draw and print or color books,

while snuggled in our secret nooks.

*

I’m glad they float, though labels’ lost.

Nothing left to be peeled and tossed.

Then guides are gone for shades unknown.

But I’ll know them all, when I’m grown.

*

My cat swats greens under my bed.

My dog’s favorite to eat is red.

We all roll fast and giggle for more.

When they’re like bearings on the floor.

*

We build rainbows to the sky.

Stacked like logs to make towers high.

We lose the ones we like the best.

Then have extras of all the rest.

*

They’re a gift that’s always welcome.

They’re used up quick or saved by some.

Look what Harold did with just one.

My sixty-four are much more fun.

*

Stored neat in a box with a lid that flips,

and a hole on the back to sharpen tips.

Enough to share with all my friends,

we can draw a line that never ends.

*

Though mostly used sparingly,

tucked safe in a drawer, just for me.

They somehow seem to go away.

And just in time for Christmas day.

*

The End

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A Holiday’s Warmth

In the land of the dragon when nights get long.
The air is cold and the wind is strong.
In caves they’ll gather all cozy and warm.
But first, they’ll prepare before the big storm.
~
The holiday’s near and another year’s treat.
Moms and dads busy to make all things neat.
The children make dangles to dress up their tree.
Then off to slumber for a week, two or three.
~
Their parents when done with winter chores,
warm their homes and open their doors.
The children then wake to a new winter’s white.
And gaze at trinkets secretly left in the night.
~
There are mittens and hats for the littlest of tikes.
There are goodies galore that everyone likes.
The grown-ups all share a warm hearted kiss.
Then hugs all around that’s never to miss.
~
The teens await the greatest gift of all.
They’ll soon learn to fly or tumble and fall.
But the new snow’s now deep and oh so soft.
It’s perfect for landing when not high aloft.
~
When the sun gets low and the chill sets in.
Homeward they head for the feast begin.
They’ll all sing and dance and sip warm sno-nog.
The night then ends with the last burning log.
~
Eyelids grow heavy, eyes soon to close.
Socks pulled snugly over big chilly toes.
Hibernation then starts and dreams it’ll bring,
where thoughts are warm awaiting the spring.

~*~
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Figmented

In a little town not far from here,
there lived a star, a puppeteer.
She entertained children near and far.
While her husband played his old guitar.
~
The puppets danced and the kids all giggled.
The guitarist sang and everyone wiggled.
But behind the show’s curtain of green,
the puppeteer performs, always unseen.
~
But she’s not sad, she’s quite content,
the shows always fun and it pays the rent.
Their home life is great with two cats and a dog.
And in a pond nearby they had a pet frog.
~
Their children, now grown and moved far away,
but they all get together for Christmas day.
The tree lit up bright and gifts piled high.
They await the sunrise in the cold winter sky.
~
First up’s the grandkids, it’s time to explore.
Next was the dog that sleeps by the door.
The children were silent peaking at the gifts.
Each on lookout in five minute shifts.
~
Tape’s gently pulled and corners peeled back,
they had to work fast to get through the stack.
The children were careful to not make a mess,
because if caught, next year there’d be less.
~
It didn’t take long for them to realize,
the presents were fake and the pets were spies.
The children panicked and ran back to their beds,
to dream once more of dolls, blocks and sleds.
~
But the parents sat waiting at the top of the stairs.
The kids now caught broke down in tears.
They ruined Christmas and the parents were mad.
The grandparents were disappointed and that was sad.
~
A lecture was given while breakfast they ate.
Grandma’s lesson was that good things are worth the wait.
And that things are not always as they appear,
you can take it from her, she’s a puppeteer.
~
Breakfast was finished at a leisurely pace.
Anticipation beamed from everyone’s face.
Then a puppet appeared dressed as Santa Claus,
who passed out presents to much applause.

~*~
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Flight Lesson

With the first bird’s tweet before sunrise,
an eager young fairy opened her eyes.
Impatient she was to explore a new day,
to discover new things, have fun and play.
~
Silently venturing from the hollow of her tree,
she took the leap to be fluttering free.
She soared through the dark above the treetops,
seeing first the sun shine on morning bunny hops.
~
Reaching new heights she dove for the green.
There twists and turns through branch barely seen.
She then came to a stop with forest floor near,
where she sat on a twig spying something unclear.
~
The rays of dawn peaked betwixt shadowed leaf.
A lone beam shone on a nest, wove beyond belief.
‘Twas silken hung with shimmers and wiggles.
Soon out pops a butterfly to bright eyes and giggles.
~
The pair swiftly flew off, with each a new friend.
Their flight of fancy they hoped without end.
The forest was waking from the dark of night.
Ferns were unfurling to welcome the light.
~
Morning blossoms’ blooming’s a colorful treat.
Dew drop reflections fragrantly sweet.
The bumble bee’s buzz in search they roam.
Lady bugs lingering wished to be home.
~
Crickets stopped chirping, they’re done for the day.
The squirrels and chipmunks have come out to play.
Frolicking freely time quickly passed by.
Their world growing smaller the higher they fly.
~
Sensing the danger circling above,
the butterfly thought a game the fairy would love.
For his instinct foretold both could be caught.
All else he knew his new friend had taught.
~
He said “wait down below, I’ll hide and you seek”.
“But count to a thousand before you peek.”
The adventurous fairy dove quick for the wood.
The brave butterfly flew higher than he should.
~
Counting’s completed, now’s time to discover.
She opened her eyes while humming birds hover.
She asked of them if a butterfly was seen,
one with big wings of red, yellow and green.
~
The little birds knew not of his hiding place.
Sadness now shaded the young fairy’s face.
She searched high and low, both left and right.
Her sight’s now shrinking in falling sunlight.
~
Shadows grow longer with the moon’s turn to rise
A blanket of stars soon covered sleepy eyes.
A quiet night passing, she dreamt of her tree.
And the nightmare had, unprepared to be free.
~
Awakening again to a song she knew well.
Birds summon the sun as the pale moon fell.
The fairy sat patient on a stump by a stream.
Butterfly! Oh butterfly she did loudly scream.
~
The butterfly didn’t hear her mournful cry,
though the echo heard through valley and sky.
Her parents welcomed their lost child’s voice.
Soon by her side they all did rejoice.
~
The young fairy’s joy soon returned to tears.
She spoke of the butterfly and of her fears.
Her parents assured her he had lost his way.
But he’d surely return somehow, someday.
~
The family raced back to their cozy little home.
A place shared with others in an old honey comb.
The fairy now happily awaits her old friends return.
And keeping friends close is what she did learn.

~*~
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Our Halloween Moon

When the sun sets we’ll shed our disguise.
Our true selves appear before your eyes.
The night’s ours this All Hallows Eve.
Treats are waiting if you believe.
~
We’re witches and ghosts, cowboys and queens,
all shapes and colors; blues, reds and greens.
We’ll knock on doors without a bell.
We know there’s candy by the smell.
~
We’ll look for lights because that’s safer.
Trouble’s not worth some stale old wafer.
Parents can follow if they choose.
Some might need them for shoes they lose.
~
When the moon’s high it’s best to get back.
There goodies sorted, eating a snack.
Then time for PJ’s, bedtime soon,
sleeping beneath our Halloween moon.

~*~
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Under Where!

A big scary monster lives under my bed.
I never saw their body but maybe saw their head.
Every night they whisper when I try to sleep.
But when my mom comes in she doesn’t hear a peep.
~
My dad moved my bed and even switched my room.
But it didn’t really matter, my nights still filled with gloom.
They brought me to a doctor to get my head checked out.
They said that they found nothing, but I still have my doubt.
~
My sister teases me just like the kids at school.
She says that I’m a baby and being scared isn’t cool.
Every day on the bus the kids all laugh at my expense.
But I know I’m right and I think that they’re all dense.
~
My teacher thinks I’m crazy and doesn’t talk to me.
She says that I’m disruptive and that school isn’t free.
The principal just smiles and asks “how’s my day?”
But when I try to tell her she always walks away.
~
When the school bell rings I can’t wait to get outside.
But the bus’s always there and there’s nowhere I can hide.
It’s good the ride is short and soon it’ll be done.
My mom will be waiting and she’ll ask if I had fun.
~
I’ll tell her no and that I had gotten teased.
She’ll make her twisty face and say that she’s not pleased.
I hold her hand tightly and we both walk back inside.
She’ll help me with my homework until my brain is fried.
~
Then we share a snack before a visit from my friend.
We’ll talk a bunch till supper but then the fun will end.
I’m glad to have a friend who listens every day.
They hear the same old stories, even though they’d rather play.
~
Next we eat our supper then I’ll suffer through a bath.
Bedtime must be coming soon and another night of wrath.
My door mostly closed and my nightlight’s set on high,
I rest with one eye open and watch the moon rise in the sky.
~
When the moon got small my eyes began to close.
The monster then tried to eat me and it started with my toes.
But finally the nightmare is over and yes I was wrong.
There was no scary monster; it was just my cat all along.

~*~
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Spooky House

At the end of my street, quite near,

Sits the source of all that I fear.

Now a horror, once a jewel,

I run fast on my way to school.

`

Looms alone behind a high wall,

Watching me pass, the house sees all.

Hidden by trees most of the year.

But when fall comes so does my fear.

`

Autumn leaves drop, crunch under feet.

Out pops the house that haunts our street.

Halloween comes, chill in the air.

But trick-or-treaters won’t go there.

`

Lights never on, no cars in drive.

Shades always down, nothing alive.

I’ve heard stories, sounds in the night.

Of the house that causes our fright.

`

The shutters bang and hinges creak.

But no one dare to take a peek.

Many a ball lost over the gate.

Remember the score, game can wait!

`

Spooky shadows in the moonlight.

Ghostly shapes in the dark of night.

The vines on the porch creep and crawl.

Been scaring kids since mom was small.

`

Bats in attic, mice in the shed,

Phantoms inside or so it’s said.

Some say it’s empty, some say not.

Either way I’m worried a lot.

`

Off to bed one dreary fall night.

A bad time to turn off the light.

Mom tucks me in, we chat awhile.

She kissed my cheek, left with a smile.

`

My sleepy smile soon fades to fear.

When spooky house dreams soon appear.

I close my eyes and try to sleep,

Ran out of numbers counting sheep.

`

Outside shadows all a quiver.

Howling winds making me shiver.

I peeked from under my blanket,

The darkness said no sunrise yet.

`

I turned on the light to just wait.

For morning to come, that’ll be great.

Awoke to good news, called my friend.

Our sleepless nights where soon to end.

`

Someone bought the spooky old place.

Hopes to restore its former grace.

House got painted, bushes cut down.

What a great home, what a great town.

`

Windows fixed fresh grass on the ground,

Sunshine and flowers all around.

New families in, kids galore.

And I’m not afraid anymore.

`

We play in the yard, ride the swing.

We make up rhymes for us to sing.

Now my favorite place to be.

But once I thought the house spooky.

`

The End

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Cherry on Top Sundries Shoppe

Every Sunday me and my Pop

Take a walk to the old sundries shop

Winter’s in boots and summer flip-flops

Anytime to the Cherry on Top

*

It’s not just a store, it’s so much more

A magic box filled with sundries galore

It’s everyone’s first and their last stop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Welcoming doors always polished bright

Welcoming all to their sundries delight

Every week is a brand new crop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

*

A place with things too many to list

Lipsticks for lips that want to be kissed

There are bouncing balls and bats that bop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Combs and brushes for hair and teeth

Halloween treats and Holiday wreaths

Baskets for bunnies with ears that flop

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Row after row of this’s and that’s

There are racks for jackets, hooks for hats

Handles for brooms and buckets for mops

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

There’s cases packed with trinkets so bright

Batteries stacked for flashlights at night

They’ve got cards to send and cards to swap

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Way at the back, there’s medicines there

Carefully mixed by people who care

They carefully measure, count and chop

All the time at the Cherry on Top

 *

Then the place – my favorite of all

It’s the lunch-counter, where I sit tall

Serving pie with whipped cream and gumdrops

Any time at the Cherry on Top

 *

They’ve cakes, cookies, turkey and roasts

My dad always gets; juice, eggs and toast

Sunday’s best at the old sundries Shoppe

I get my sunday, cherry on top

~

The End

.

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Swap Meet

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*

We’re off to the swap meet today.

Dad says its work, I say its play.

Mom thinks it’s all a bunch of junk.

Who needs an old cast iron skunk?

~

Every year since I was two.

Seen the toes of many a shoe.

In my wagon with squeaky wheel,

once pulled string from an old fly reel.

~

Saw a ship of wood, bone and hair.

Dad got nervous, said don’t go there!

Great memories of dad and me.

I wish that mom would come and see.

~

Up before dawn, first at the gate.

If you’re not first, well than you’re late.

I think that second’s also OK.

Don’t follow, go the other way.

~

A laugh a push a yawn and sneeze.

New spring pollen made someone wheeze.

We’re squashed on the fence right up front.

Soon we’ll start a new treasure hunt.

~

The gate opens, I think we won.

I don’t care; I’m here to have fun.

We see faces we’ve seen before.

But the new ones are a lot more.

~

Soon the sun will rise in the sky.

Down the rows with treasures stacked high.

A day of fun, ready to learn,

Something new at every turn.

~

We pass the women in her shawl.

Sits alone, sells nothing at all.

Walking past, I’d wave and say hi.

But never did I catch her eye.

~

But now I’m ten, no chaperon.

Maybe she smiled because I’m grown.

She waved me over to come right in.

Glad to see her never seen grin.

~

I gazed into lots of old stuff,

even the best looked kind of rough.

She told me stories of each thing,

corner chair and ancient nose ring.

~

“I never sell my things of old.

They can’t be enjoyed when they’re sold,

loan things to friends once in a while,

like you” she said with a big smile.

~

“I’ve watched you pass since you were small.

On your dads’ shoulders, eight feet tall.

I’ve seen you smile and watched you grow.

Each time passing you’d say hello.

~

Walking past, eyes open wide.

You never dared to come inside.

Talking to strangers is unwise.

If I scare you, I apologize.”

~

She gave me a book that’s quite small,

not too many pages at all.

The book kept dreams lost in your head,

while you were sleeping in your bed.

~

She opened the book to page three.

Then whispered some secrets to me.

“Dreams are wishes stuck in your head.

They only come out when in bed.

~

Sleeping soundly, eyes shut tight,

mind wondering all through the night.

When you wake to start a new day,

write down those dreams before you play.

~

Follow your heart wherever it goes.

Record your trip in lovely prose.

Don’t stop writing until you’re done.

It’s never work when it’s all fun.

~

First open the book carefully.

Than close your eyes and wait to see,

all your dreams will come back to you.

But it might take a week or two.

~

Just be patient, don’t ever fret.

All things good you never forget.

I need not tell you anymore,

complete instructions on page four.”

~

She found a box, it fit just right.

I couldn’t wait to sleep that night.

Tied it up with ribbon and bow.

She gave me hug, told me to go.

~

It’s been a long winter since then.

Yes I’ve used up many a pen.

I wake each morning at sunrise.

Wipe the night’s sleepys from my eyes

~

Mom saw me writing early one day.

She asked to see, what could I say?

Together we both read out loud.

We laughed and hugged, she said she’s proud.

~

Now up after dawn, we’re not late.

Family’s first, treasure can wait.

Another year, there’s much to see,

at the swap meet; mom dad and me.

~

I hope to see my new old friend,

I’ll share my news with happy end.

I tried hard and my wish came true.

Now mom comes to the swap meet too!

*

The End

~

Available at:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/470879

Ben to Sea

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I am Ben and I’m off to sea,

ships ahoy and aye, aye matey.

I’ll sail all the oceans blue,

or maybe just a chosen few.

*

Pack my coat and hat for my head.

Bring a blanket for my new bed.

Teddy must stay with all my toys.

Sailors don’t need them, just small boys.

*

I’ll have no school or boring chores.

Just climbing rigging, manning oars.

I’ll tie knots and tell sea tales –

of pirates treasure, storms and whales.

*

I’ll sleep at sunset, rise at dawn.

Then swab the decks not mow the lawn.

I’ll eat ships biscuit and dried peas.

But hold the weevils if you please.

*

I’ll make new friends, captain and crew.

I’ll polish the brass just like new.

I’ll travel to faraway lands.

See new faces, shake lots of hands.

*

I’ll grow muscles and learn to swim,

never a splash over the rim.

I’ll grow a beard and get a tan.

Mom won’t know her new little man.

*

I’ll write her name on my sea chest.

Then she’ll know I love her best.

I’ll miss my cat, sister and dad.

I hope leaving won’t make them sad.

*

But I’ll return with gifts for all.

Dads will be big and sister’s small.

Jewels for mom, fish for my cat.

Gramps will get a new sailors hat.

*

Now mom’s calling, bedtime is near.

My journey starts, nothing to fear.

My tub is full, ships wait for me.

Always too short, my trips to the sea.

*

I rub and scrub and have some fun.

Until mom says my bath is done.

Voyage over, out goes the light.

Snug in my bunk I’ll say goodnight.

*

The End

~

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https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/472790

Hannahbelle’s Folly

Welcome back to Hannahbelle’s folly

where dreams broken yet most stayed jolly.

The factory was shut, tourist didn’t stay,

the impatient grew impatient for a better day.

Most old town folk not wanting to go

agreed to a change in the Hannahbelle show.

Their now was the present, past’s time of old,

the gooey center betwixt is this tale told.

It starts with Charlie, who lacked business sense.

All money made was but half his expense.

Having won the factory therefore the town,

he became a fair leader, albeit a clown.

Yet a kinder soul there could never be.

All hungers fed, anytime, always free.

The workers prospered with newfound wealth,

not only from raises but dental and health.

The village glistened, all gloom washed away.

Their Renaissance grew brighter each passing day.

Charlie married soon after, a remarkable bride,

their love for each other they couldn’t hide.

Hannahbelle followed within that same year.

She’s properly pampered and handled with care.

By noble decree the eldest of elders proclaimed;

In honor of Charlie the towns to be renamed.

A contest was held to find the best name.

Most of the entries were all the same.

The town’s new name was Hannahbelleville,

from miles around people came for the thrill.

With towers of brick placed one at a time

all topped with a bell for the hourly chime.

The windows sparkled, doors welcomed all.

Just step right in and we’ll all have a ball.

Neat lines form long to be part of the show.

There are twists and turns wherever you go.

A bib and bags are given free at the door

to save what’s left for when you want more.

Ponchos welcome but most haven’t a care,

sweet diversions are why they’re all here.

Where chocolate waterfalls splash at their base,

what a tasty surprise to the passerby’s face.

There are also cakes, cookies and candies galore.

There’s shirts and hats at the little gift store.

The shelves always stocked, but not for long,

their prices are good so sales are strong.

On paper everything seemed OK.,

until a new town sprouted across the bay.

This new town was grander, factory too.

They stole Charlie’s recipes, yet he hadn’t a clue.

They built a new park with rides big and small.

It’s better than Hannahbelles that had none at all.

The competition soon became bold and brutal.

The rivals charged half for twice the strudel!

Though Charlie’s reluctant to change his way,

he worked all the harder without any pay.

Then Hannahbelle’s tuition became overdue,

not just one term but quite a few.

She’d have to go home without a degree.

The long spring stretched, she worked as three.

Side by side the little family all toiled.

Cooking and cleaning and keeping things oiled.

Summer arrived and thoughts were blooming.

She had to think fast, payday was looming.

Then a plan was hatched to save the day.

She called her classmates to all have a say.

Her idea was shared to change their fates.

The chefs and chemists mixed heated debates.

Mathematicians integrated their permutations.

The statisticians juggled interpolations.

The engineers tinkered to make all precise.

Artist’s flourished to make all look nice.

A manager’s needed to book weekend bands.

Then there’s the overhead and two hired hands.

There are taxes, tariffs and hidden fees.

We’ve a lawyer’s retained to shoot the breeze.

Bankers were safe with their calculations.

The accountants left to balance frustrations.

Our writers wrote slogans, jingles and ads.

Their pieces placed in papers for new I.T. grads.

A final test given for last minute tweaks.

Then code was input by computer geeks.

The output emerged and everyone’s thrilled.

Soon teeth and tummies both less filled.

It’ll be safe to consume whenever you please.

They’ll never melt and cannot freeze.

There’s no a messy wrappers or sticky streets.

When enjoying the new Hannahbelle binary treats.

Though you will need a dongle for a spare port,

to call up our server of cheese mocha torte.

You can try any flavor you think to choose,

try them all, there’s nothing to loose

We’ve green apple slush and warm fuzzy peach.

There’s seven billion in all, that’s one for each.

Just fill in the form and enter your pin.

Sit back, relax and let the digiconfection begin.

Pay what you can, take what you need.

The business is sweet without any greed.

And after all the bills are paid,

what’s left is ours; it’s what we’ve made.

What was made is what we make.

What Hannahbelle makes icing on her cake.

Hannahbelles treats now second to none,

without competition you’ve already won.

And as the creator of all that’s digiconfectionary,

she’s thought now to be a true visionary.

A university was founded, tuition’s free.

Hannahbelle was first to earn a degree.

Soon she was mayor of Hannahbelleville.

She could serve for life and probably will.

The company grew large, built in its niche.

Everyone did well, though no one got rich.

Hannahbelle shares all her profits and good will.

So all ends happily in Hannahbelleville.

sck011816dft

Beach Day

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Tomorrow’s to be the best day.

A day of sunshine, swim and play.

Must get to sleep, morning is near.

We’ll wake early, much to prepare.

*

Eat breakfast, find my pail and rake.

Great big castles of sand we’ll make.

Pack cooler with lunch, bring a hat.

Bags for towels and this and that.

~

Morning has come, wide open eyes.

Hoping for those clear blue skies.

It must be early, sky’s still gray.

Maybe I woke on the wrong day.

*

Waited all winter, now’s in reach,

sunny day of fun at the beach.

Went back to bed, nothing to do.

Closed my eyes then the sun shined through.

~

Jumped out of bed, day’s second chance.

Brush my teeth and put on short pants.

Ran downstairs for breakfast and more,

a surprise friend waits at my door.

*

We all got packed into the car.

Hoping the drive won’t be too far.

Wheels turn, were almost there.

Windows open, I smell the sea air.

~

Pull in the lot, our fun begins.

Unpack the car, pull out the bins.

We carry the bags, two for each.

Umbrellas up, blanket on beach.

*

Cooler wheels stuck in the sand.

Dad asked me to lend him a hand.

We’re all set up, time to explore.

There’s much to do at the seashore.

~

We hurry down to take our dips.

First toes then knees, up to hips.

The water’s cold, we jumped back out.

To thick towels we run and shout.

*

My fingers wrinkle, lips turn blue.

The sunshine’s warming me and you.

Sand’s sticking to my wet swimsuit.

Mom gets lunch; sandwich, drink and fruit.

~

Our feast is done, time to play ball.

Huffing and puffing, shared by all.

We blew it up then threw it high.

Caught by the wind, kept by the sky.

*

Grab our shovels, pile the sand.

Moats and towers, kings of this land.

Then waves came in with a crash.

Hours to build, gone in a splash.

SK_BeachDay_6

Now we’ll find some big new sea shells.

Some are flat some shaped like bells.

Some you hear the sea in your ear.

Some will have things living in there.

~

Sifting for treasure in the sands.

Time slipping through our small wet hands.

We keep the best in a small sack.

To be explored when we get back.

*

Now let’s try the water again.

First you go then I’ll jump right in.

Dive and swim, watch seaweed float by.

Then the sun sank low in the sky.

~

We all go home, skin pink, eyes red.

Take a cool bath then off to bed.

Going to sleep dreaming of more,

a day at the beach is best – I’ m sure!

*

The End

sck081314

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/472691

Magic Carpet

~

Full moon’s high in my window pane,

a sleepless night yet again.

I think of what that old moon’s seen,

and the billions of days in-between.

.

Billions of stories it could share.

But few like grandma’s can compare.

Her life began long, long ago.

Raised in places few ever know.

.

In forests, jungles and never-ending plains,

there were exotic cities and quiet country lanes.

Naturalist nurtured traversing the globe,

her parents explorers and professors in robes.

.

She too attended their university,

majoring, of course, in anthropology.

She graduated at the very top of her class.

Then returning to a high mountain pass.

.

A place where dear friends made, one nevermore,

new will be made though not as before.

For the sisterly love they both did share,

her dowry passed from generations with care.

.

Their rug was presented for the mutual esteem,

more cherished than a simple weaving would  seem.

With sheep twists dyed and hands knotting all day,

life’s artful history’s made to give, barter or pray.

.

That winter spent mourning by choice and terrain.

Gram then ventured east with the new spring rain.

Her path soon ended on a long Pacific beach,

her life of the past now far out of reach.

.

She then called upon as never before.

She volunteered proudly as a nurse in the war.

Through years of blood, pain and tears she served,

refusing all the medals and honors deserved.

.

Though her true love was found slumped on a cot,

they soon returned home, where time was forgot.

Gramps got better and a new family sown.

their many shared scars were never to be shown.

.

Her old rug was placed by hearth and chest,

each full of stories though not all are best.

It’s a place we’d sit to hear grandma recall,

sometimes a place to do nothing at all.

.

So I tip-toed downstairs since sleep no option,

I’ll rest on that rug where dreams are begun.

It’s where secrets are shared and magic seen,

then a place for relaxing time in-between.

.

Once sewn as a bag keeping safe, precious things.

It’s been many a blanket with a picnic to bring.

It’s been a shawl in the cold and hood in the rain –

and a comfy pillow on the overnight train.

.

Adventures had in time that’s flown,

together worn from long years grown.

This rug’s grandma’s confidant and oldest friend,

soaring together their wove lives transcend.

.

Though colors now faded, ends torn and frayed,

beauty more timeless cannot be remade.

And when the winds do bellow just right,

we’re drawn up the flue and into the night.

.

Holding fast and climbing high,

we touched the stars in our moonlit sky.

We’d see twinkling lights in our town below,

then off to the hills where roads don’t go.

.

Over the wood, back to the place we all live,

where the door’s always open and love’s to give.

There blissful slumbers had snug as a bug,

whilst wrapped with a hug in grandmas old rug.

.

~*~

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A Day on the Farm

The sun’s our clock, rooster alarm.

Up to start a day on the farm.

Fresh air and sunshine all long day.

Eat our breakfast then on our way.

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I put on my boots, coat and hat.

And find a glove under the cat.

Out the door to the bunnies hutch.

They eat  pellets they don’t like much.

.

My dog follows, opens the door.

Sometimes gone for hours or more.

Jumping high, trips latch with paw.

The cutest thing I ever saw.

.

Next we’re off to feed the plump hens.

Gather eggs, clean muddy pig pens.

We’ll hose it down then slop the sows.

Grab our pails and milk the cows.

.

Feed the mare, sleeps in the sable.

I’ll ride her soon when I’m able.

First she’s brushed then gets oats and hay.

We do all these things twice a day

.

In the garden, vegetables grow.

Sprout from seeds we plant in a row.

Water well, pluck weeds in between.

Shoe away pests when they’re seen.

.

When all the digging and feeding’s through.

There’s still more on a farm to do.

Pick fresh fruit for mom’s best jelly.

Yummy sweet, wiggles in my belly.

.

Orange balloons float above ground.

Pumpkin pies shared all around.

Our beans are red and peas are green.

The tastiest rainbows ever seen.

.

Life on the farm is so much fun.

Little to do when work is done.

Get up early, busy all day.

We eat our supper then hit the hay.

*

The End

 

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