Mondays


I don’t like Mondays
‘cause Mondays aren’t fun days.


My Saturdays are,
and so are my Sundays.


A week with a Monday
is a Monday day too many ...


If they'd let me change it,
there wouldn’t be any.

Mr. Bones


I was looking up some haunted stuff
because it’s Halloween.
There were black cats, ghosts and witches,
And some of them looked mean.


Then I saw your picture.
You’re an awesome skeleton!
I read that we are just like you,
way down underneath our skin.


Before you got turned inside out,
Did you really look like me?
I think I’ll call you Mr. Bones,
‘cause bones are all I see.


Mr. Bones, Mr. Bones,
you have a scary mouth.
There’s nothing where your eyes should be.
You're sure spooky wrong-side out!


Dear old Mr. Bones,
between your bones, I just see air.
When you walk do you make noise?
Are you cold because you’re bare?


Poor, poor Mr. Bones,
it’s sad you have no skin.
I guess that I'd look frightening, too,
with my inside out, my outside in.

Dear God ...


Dear God: 
I dreamed I went to Heaven
to have a talk with You.
I climbed right up some puffy clouds
til Heaven was in view.


It looked just like a castle! 
It was high with many floors
and it seemed a million windows
overlooked the one huge door.


The door was gold and silver
and bright lights shined within.
Two boxes hung suspended there, 
“Take a Prayer” and “Leave a Sin”.


Everywhere around me, 
I saw people with white wings
and when I pushed the doorbell, 
I heard angel voices sing.


Then the big door opened.
The kindest man stood there.
He said he’d be my tour guide
and to follow him upstairs.


Right inside the great big door, 
I saw a handmade sign.
The lettering was very old
on wood of weathered pine.


The message was so simple.
It said only, “Welcome Home”
but that was enough to tell me
here you never felt alone.


Each floor throughout the castle
was filled with happiness.
From the bottom to the top one, 
I saw nothing but kindness.


Angels standing near the windows
stopped to hug and welcome me.
Others passing in the hallways
smiled and whispered quietly.


Each room on every floor there
had a sign above its door, 
carved in ancient lettering
which said, “Always Room For More”.


When my tour was finished
and it was time to go, 
I still had some questions left
that weren’t answered though.


Do just good kids go to Heaven? 
Sometimes, I do naughty things.
Am I still a good girl, too? 
Will I have angel’s wings? 


My tour guide hugged me gently.
He said he thought I would
‘cause Heaven has so many rooms
and every child is good.


When I left the castle
and turned to wave goodbye, 
an angel told me You had been
my Heavenly Tour Guide.

Feelings


Mom, why would kids say stuff to hurt me, 
most especially, when they’re not true? 
Don’t they even care about feelings? 
Can’t they think first, before they hurt you? 


She said those that do that are unhappy,
they’re very angry deep down inside,
but they just don't know how to fix that,
so they pick on kids smaller in size.


Mom said life is too short to stay angry.
If you let it, angry gets bigger each day!
But happy grows faster than angry can,
so be happy, it’s better that way!


Mom said just stand up for my feelings, 
but do it nice, and don’t get all mad. 
I try, but it sure isn’t easy, 
being nice when they’ve made me so sad.

What's a Desert?


A desert is a hot dry place.
The sun shines down all day.
Lots of prairie dogs and rattlers
like to live here anyway.


There’s a tall and hairy cactus 
that looks just like my dad,
especially if he wants a hug
from me and Mommy really bad.


There’s big old rocks for climbing
but the sun shines way too much,
so the sweat just makes you soggy,
and the rocks too hot to touch.


I see roly poly bumble things
(they call them tumbleweeds),
and lots of sand, but nowhere grass,
and I miss climbing trees.

  
Here they call deer antelope.
(In the song, they like to play),
and it’s fun to chase jackrabbits
to watch them hop away.


I’ve had a lot of fun here.
There’s so much stuff to see.
But I’ll be glad to go back home
where it's Mom and Dad and me.

Holes In Socks


Holes are good in donuts
and for putting keys in locks.
Holes are good in some things,
but holes aren’t good in socks.


Holes taste great in Swiss cheese.
We need holes for wearing rings.
But how do holes get in my socks?
Holes belong in OTHER things!


Holes make scissors cut right
and open pockets for my rocks.
I DO need holes in special things,
but who needs holes in socks?


Holes belong in inner tubes
and to put mail inside the box.
Holes work fine in things like THAT
but holes don’t work in socks!


Holes have to be in noses
and our ears to hear friends talk.
Holes have to be in body parts
but WHO put HOLES in socks?


Holes do let the puddles fill
to splash in on our walks,
but holes in socks just GRAB my TOES ...

and I 
 
Hate
 
Holes
 
In
 
Socks!

Mama, Am I Pretty?


Mama, am I pretty?
"Why do you ask", she said.
She held me gently to her,
and kissed me lightly on my head.


"Your clothes are neatly ironed.
Your face and hands are clean.
You’re such a sweet child, little one,
what does your question mean?"


Mama, am I pretty?
I really need to know.
Am I pretty like the other girls
at school where we all go?


"You have a very loving heart,
You’re gentle, kind and good.
Your friends all think the world of you,
anybody would."


But, Mama, am I pretty?
Sometimes kids point or stare.
I’ve got these real thick glasses
that I wish I didn’t wear.


Mama said my time would come, 
be patient and I’d see.
The things that really matter
were there, inside of me.


But, Mama!  Am I pretty?
I didn’t mean to shout.
Then Mama smiled and told me,
"Sweetheart, yes, inside and out."

Scary Dreams


In my dream,  I heard a tiger!
So I hid behind a tree.
I was frightened he would eat me up
‘cause he roared and roared at me.


I woke up scared and sweaty,
thought I’d sleep with Mom and Dad,
but when I went in their room,
Dad was snoring really bad.


I climbed between them anyway,
with the blanket pulled up tight.
I closed my eyes and wished real hard.
No more tigers, not tonight.


I remembered what my daddy said,
that a bed is like a book.
If the page on the right is scary,
turn left and take a look.


I turned to the left and fell asleep.
The tiger wasn’t there,
but in its place, and growling LOUD
was a big old grizzly bear!


This time I woke up shaking!
That really scared me bad!
I had turned both left and right
and they were the only turns I had!


Daddy’s snoring like a buzz saw.
How can I go to sleep?
I’m not too good at counting yet
or I’d count myself some sheep.


I thought about his snores some more.
Daddy sounds just like a bear.
On second thought, a tiger, too,
so I got out of there!


I closed their door behind me,
then I tiptoed quietly
and shut the door to my room, too ...
no more snoring roars for me!