Alan Balter

Harvey is a huge hippopotamus
Who bathes in a bay that is bottomless
HIs mouth is as large
As a riverboat barge
And he weighs ten times more than a lot of us

Harvey wears a red cummerbund
And sewn on the back is the number one
He plays the tuba
Not far from Aruba
While dancing around in the summer sun

Once Harvey met up with a crocodile
Together they decided to walk a mile
Near the shore they strolled,
But the water got cold
So they sat down to talk on the dock a while

Eating Oreo cookies about four apiece
They talked about matters of war and peace
They discussed the economy,
Art, and astronomy
And the huge immigration of foreign geese

Then walking back toward his new shiny house
Harvey stopped for a chat with a tiny mouse
Her name was Du Barry;
They decided to marry
And soon come a baby named Stanislaus

A handsome young child was Stanislaus
Dressed up in his fine silken Spanish blouse
They all had made history;
This was no mystery
For Stan was the first Hippopotamouse

Huge Harvey adored his sweet ladylove
From her wee little feet to her head above
He brought her some strings
And other fine things
Including a snowy white turtledove

Harvey has grown really mellow now
He seldom produces a bellow now
But if you're down by the bay,
You can still see him play
This wondrous and gentle old fellow now

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

It's louder than the sound of barking dogs at night
Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.
A chainsaw cutting logs doesn't make as much din,
Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.

A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,
As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.
But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad's bedroom,
Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!

At last I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.
It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring
Mom says: "I don't mind; it's really a Godsend
That all that wind isn't coming out the other end."

Some are as long as hoses
You buy at a garden store.
Mine can be used to smell roses
From a couple of miles or more.

In case you haven't guessed it,
It's noses I'm talking about here,
And although I've never expressed it
As for mine, it's unique, I fear.

On a night that's humid and warm
You'd be impressed I'd bet.
Stand under my nose in a thunderstorm.
Chances are you won't get wet.

Yesterday I had someone to meet.
The cab drive was the worst.
The driver dropped me at Eighth Street.
But my nose went on 'til First.

Then a jet plane we boarded
Me and my nose, it was neat.
I really couldn't afford it
'Cause we needed an extra seat.

For handkerchiefs, it's really rough.
It's hard to know what to do.
A small white cloth isn't enough,
So I use a bedsheet or two.

Perhaps I shouldn't be complaining.
Who knows where things went wrong?
Certainly I should be abstaining
From sticking it where it doesn't belong

Great Grandpa is a wise old man who says he's ninety-four.
He tells me that he lost his leg fighting in some war.
When I was just a little tot with eyes and nose still runny,
He swears that he forgot my name, so now he calls me Sonny.

Great Grandpa is a carpenter; he makes things out of wood,
Chairs and stairs and pegs and legs; gee, I wish I could.
He has saws and tools and tapes and rules in the shed where he does work.
Most times he's out there late at night with his dear old helper, Turk.

Together they talk of good old days, 'bout things they used to do,
And sometimes they just kick around what are lies and what is true.
Once at breakfast, I asked my gramps when he learned his trade.
He said, "Sonny, I'm very proud to say it was down in second grade."

"Gramps," I said, "Now that's a fib; you weren't but seven or eight.
A boy can't be a carpenter at such an early date."
Grandpa winked and took a swig of cider for his thirst.
"Why, sure you can; it's easy Sonny, after nine straight years in first!"

We laughed and then he took a nap; his skin grew pale and lighter.
I loved his wrinkled face and brow, this great old freedom fighter.
He had a restful sleep awhile snoring soft and steady.
I wonder if Great Grandpa knows I'm missing him already.