41. Haunted House Inventory
Wooden door; wide and creaky.
Sculking cat; snide and sneaky.
Skeletons; cold and clanky.
Madame Witch; old and cranky.
Wooden door; wide and creaky.
Sculking cat; snide and sneaky.
Skeletons; cold and clanky.
Madame Witch; old and cranky.
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Five little stars were twinkling,
Bright like never before.
One little star burned up -
Now there were only four.
I really enjoyed this poem...it was simple but was very good for children.
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"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" I heard.
I really hate that lousy bird!
I got home late from Betty Lou's,
But now I've got my chores to do.
Silver moon and golden stars
Are watching over us from afar.
While we rest in our beds,
The warmth of the sun,
Faces all aglow.
It's time for summer fun
As the happy faces show.
O, its bones may be colossal,
But the trouble with a fossil
Is that it doesn’t give a clue
As to the creature’s actual hue.
I just love the poem. I had been feeling a bit low, and then I read your poem and the world felt like a brighter place. Thank you.
He’s coming! He’s coming!
Santa Claus is on his sleigh!
He’s coming! He’s coming!
Magic reindeer – up and away!
As I lay in bed
While I go to sleep,
My thoughts start to swirl 'round my head.
To quiet my mind, I try to unwind,
I wish that spinach tasted like chocolate,
Instead of tasting sour and bitter.
I wish that candy bars were loaded with nutrition,
So that eating as many as I like would make me even fitter.
A book is not a window
nor is it a magical key
a book’s not a path
through a mountain
The child knows best...
A book's a story waiting to be read
Taking one to where their feet never tread
Be it fact or fiction whatever's told
It's a mystery about to unfold.
If clouds were made of candyfloss.
If honey filled the seven seas.
If sand was made of sherbet.
If cupcakes grew on every tree.
Though I have never, ever met a fairy,
I am quite certain that they exist.
I read about them every day in stories and poems,
So I know they’re living somewhere in our midst.
I've a picture of Pluto,
My white spacesuit,
My robot Charlie,
My red moon-boots,
Hobgoblins and spellbinders,
Angels in rags,
Liar or truthteller,
Lacewitch or hag.
sumMer came
flowErs bloomed
playMates giggled
bOnfires lit
Add two times twenty-two,
To twelve and twenty more,
Take forty-five from fifty-five,
Add four by forty-four.
I want to catch a poem,
But I’m not sure how.
I wish I knew when and where,
I could catch a poem right now.
Arrgh! I’m a pirate.
I sail salty seas,
searching for ships,
I am in speak but not in tell,
I am in whisper but not in yell,
I am in peel but not in bell,
And you’ll find me in spin as well as spell.