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Little Daddy Longlegs
Little Daddy Longlegs played in the sun,
Climbing up the front steps just for fun.
One leg, two legs, three legs, four,
Eight legs later he was at my door.
He sat on the mat looking up at me,
Till I opened the door an inch or three.
I caught him in a jelly jar just for fun
And put him in the window in the morning sun.
But Little Daddy Longlegs curled up small,
Looking like he wasn't even there at all.
He just sat still looking up at me,
So I opened the jar and set him free.
Little Daddy Longlegs played in the sun,
Climbing down the front steps just for fun.
One leg, two legs, three legs, four,
Eight legs later he was there no more.
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Pigs
Pigs are playful.
Pigs are pink.
Pigs are smarter
than you think.
Pigs are pudgy.
Pigs are plump.
Pigs can run
but never jump.
Pigs are loyal.
Pigs are true.
Pigs don't care
for barbecue.
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Hippos
Hippos swim.
Hippos snort.
Hippo legs
are rather short.
Hippos ears
are pink and tiny.
Hippo hide
is very shiny.
Hippo tails
are stout and stubby.
Hippo hips
are kind of chubby.
Hippos stay
rather quiet.
Hippos never
like to diet.
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What Does A Hound Dog Do All Day?
He sleeps. He eats. He chases flies.
He looks for pheasant in the skies.
He barks. He growls. And then he snores.
He wakes and begs for out-of-doors.
He hunts. He howls. He loves kind words.
(He won't admit he's scared of birds.)
He runs. He jumps. He fetches sticks.
He finds your face and then he licks.
He gets his pets. He gets his pats.
He gets his kicks from chasing cats.
He sniffs. He tracks. He likes to roam.
He finds your lap when you are home.
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The Secret Garden
A hidden path of cobble stones,
A fairy sitting with two gnomes,
A bird bath draped in mossy green,
A whisper drifting from a stream,
A marble fountain, a golden swan,
Four tree frogs in a lily pond,
An iron bench, a bronze sun dial
Telling time with a shady smile,
An arch of roses in full bloom,
A bird house orange as the moon.
Like an elf among the flowers,
I could hide in here for hours.
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Tomorrow's My Birthday
Tomorrow's my birthday and I'll be four
And I won't have to stay home anymore.
I'll take down my bank right off my shelf
And I will go out and about by myself.
I'll buy me a ticket and I'll take a train
And I'll go to Texas to ride on the range.
I'll buy me some boots and a hat, but no toys,
Cause I'll be as big as all the cowboys.
I'll rope and I'll ride and I'll be the best
Of all the cowboys in the world and the West.
And when it gets dark on the cattle drive--
Well, maybe I'll wait until I am five.
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Racing The Wind
I like to ride on my bike every day
Where the limbs of trees
Shake hands in the breeze
Over my head with the tips of their leaves.
I like to race with the sun in my face
Down trails I know
Where no one goes
Except the wind that blows and blows.
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On The Way To School
I'll tell you why I'm tardy and I hope my excuse will do.
I stopped to view upon a leaf a spider and some dew.
She spun a web before my eyes with a soft and silver hue,
And when she looked, I looked at her and whispered, "Peekaboo!"
I think I may have startled her and so I waved good-bye,
But when I turned around to go, I met a butterfly!
I almost caught him in my hand to bring to class for you,
But when I tried to peek inside, away my treasure flew.
And that is how I'm tardy, but I had to tell you why.
It's all the fault of a spider's web and a sneaky butterfly!
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Lunch Box Surprise
My mother packed me all the things
I like to eat for lunch,
A peanut butter sandwich
And some pretzels I can munch,
A little box of raisins
And a little box of juice,
And for dessert my favorite treat,
A cup of chocolate mousse.
I sat in class, my stomach roared,
It echoed loud and far,
'Cause I remembered I had left
My lunch box in the car!
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Mother Of The Night
The moon watches over us
Like a Mother of the Night.
She sees through the darkness
With her soft and silvery light.
She peeks in on each one of us
And watches as we dream,
Gently placing kisses
With every new moonbeam.
She covers us with shadows
As she tiptoes 'cross the sky.
She checks on all her children
As she slowly passes by.
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Snowfall In The City
Covered in creamy
birthday-cake frosting,
the parked cars
huddle beneath
their streetlamp candles,
waiting for the North Wind
to come make its wish
for morning.
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Wild Romance
I love ewe.
I'm not lion.
I really gopher you.
I never gnu this would happen.
You are so deer to me.
It's more than I can bear.
Let us seal our love with a kiss.
I will always bee yours.
I will never have any egrets.
You are my one and only gull.
Owl always love you.
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A Poem Is A Busy Bee
A poem is a busy bee
Buzzing in your head.
His hive is full of hidden thoughts
Waiting to be said.
His honey comes from your ideas
That he makes into rhyme.
He flies around looking for
What goes on in your mind.
When it's time to let him out
To make some poetry,
He gathers up your secret thoughts
And then he sets them free.
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A Poem Is A Spider Web
A poem is a spider web
Spun with words of wonder,
Woven lace held in place
By whispers made of thunder.
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What's A Poem?
A whisper,
a shout,
thoughts turned
inside out.
A laugh,
a sigh,
an echo
passing by.
A rhythm,
a rhyme,
a moment
caught in time.
A moon,
a star,
a glimpse
of who you are.
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The Firefly
The firefly is quite a sight
Upon the summer wind.
Instead of shining where he goes,
He lights up where he's been.
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Ants Never Cry "Uncle"
Consider the little ant.
He never says, "I can't."
And so it comes as no surprise,
He carries things ten times his size.
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Turtle Trouble
Tell me if you think you know
How to make a turtle go.
I've pushed, I've tapped, I've really tried
But mine, I think, is stuck inside.
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Evening Parade
A summer storm
Stirs my slumber
As clouds march by
To claps of thunder.
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Science Faction
Nature, it's true,
Is full of surprises:
The sun doesn't set,
The horizon rises.
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Snow Time!
I like to watch the falling snow.
It puts on such a lovely show.
It looks like little veils of lace--
White butterflies upon my face.
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Family Tree
My roots are deep within you,
Growing as you grow.
My shade provides the shelter
For the new seeds that you sow.
No matter what the season,
I stand here still the same.
Come winter, spring, or summer,
My branches bear your name.
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A Poem Is A Little Path
A poem is a little path
That leads you through the trees.
It takes you to the cliffs and shores,
To anywhere you please.
Follow it and trust your way
With mind and heart as one,
And when the journey's over,
You'll find you've just begun.
...see more poems at the Father Goose blog
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