Monday, December 20, 2010

Office Christmas Party

It’s winter in the Haunted Forest,
Snow falls from the sky,
But ghosts are nowhere to be seen,
And not one ghoul floats by.

Two witches streak by on their brooms—
They’re just a little tardy,
And creatures hate to be late to
The office Christmas party!

The zombies from Accounting
Throw this party every year.
And all the Haunted Forest workers
Come to spread good cheer.

It’s always such a jolly time
Back in the darkest woods.
The snack-elves host it in their tree
With freshly made baked goods.

There’s lots of food for goblin’,
And the creature from the bog
Brings spinach dip with fetid cheese
And chunky-style egg nog.

If you prefer a different drink,
There’s always several sprites out.
They’ll fix and mix the pixie way
If you can get the lights out!

The minotaurs hang angels on
Their sharp and pointy horns.
The werewolves howl with laughter
As their cubs ride unicorns.

The vampires skip the meatballs—
All that garlic hurts their tummies.
The ogre children run around
And bother all their mummies.

It’s strictly a black-tie affair,
With most folks wearing tails.
The highlight is the sing-along—
The banshees raise their wails!

The screech out “We Three Creepers,”
And their favorite, “Silent Fright.”
The poltergeists moan all twelve verses
Of “Oh Howly Night.”

Then “I’ll be Gnome for Christmas”
Echoes out from down below,
And “Troll: The Ancient Yuletide Carol”
Closes out the show.

They all head home to sleep it off,
But just before they do,
They wish each other “Scary Christmas,”
“Happy New Fear,” too!

So join the office Christmas party!
Nobody will mind!
Oh even zombies, trolls, and mummies
Sometimes must unwind!

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Do You Hear What I Hear?

String of Popcorn

I'm popping popcorn for the tree.
White popcorn on a string.
I'll wrap it 'round like ribbons
For the joy that it will bring.

I bring the kernels to the stove,
I put them in a pot.
I pour the oil all over them
And get them piping hot!

The kernels are so huge and round,
I can't believe my eyes!
They'd surely make a snack
Of unimaginable size!

But this corn is for Christmas trees,
To string like speckled snow.
I swirl the pot around again,
And 'round and 'round they go!

How lucky that I found this corn,
So giant, round, and white!
I'm glad I spied it in Mom's dresser
Hidden out of sight!

How nice of her to think of me
And get the popcorn ready.
'Cause when I found the kernels,
They were on the string already!

Oh won't my mom be happy when
She sees my new creation?
A shining string of perfect corn!
A Christmas celebration!

When they start popping—boy oh boy!
My fun will be complete!
They're taking such a long long time—
I guess I'll raise the heat!

The Sheriff

The sheriff rode to town one day
To make the bad guys go away.
He sat up tall upon his horse,
A-jangle-ing his spurs, of course,
And tapped the holster by his side,
Then scowled at rascals far and wide.
But none of his bravado worked!
The scoundrels scoffed and smugly smirked!
Those no-good low-down two-bit varmints
Mocked the poor old sheriff's garments!
Though he should have known much better,
There it was—his Christmas sweater!
Reindeer, snowflakes, jolly elves,
Snowmen dancing by themselves,
Candy canes and bells that jingle,
Big fat jolly old Kris Kringle!
Even all the tough outlaws
Couldn't hide their great guffaws.
Poor old sheriff! No respect!
Years of reputation—wrecked!
You just can't tame the wild wild west
While wearing such a vile vile vest!

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Christopher Columb-ant

Climbing up the picnic table
Just as high as he is able,
Christopher Columb-ant’s here,
Seeking out the new frontier!

Other ants may mount a mission,
Try to plan an expedition,
Marshall mountains of supplies,
Sign peace treaties with the flies,

But to boldly forge ahead,
Risk it all for cheese and bread,
Only Chris Columb-ant dares,
Catching lunchers unawares!

On the promise of a dream,
Up he climbs the table beam,
Positive the new world waits—
Treasures piled on paper plates!

What he finds, this sparkling nation,
Far exceeds imagination!
Land of plenty! Land of gain!
Land of amber crumbs of grain!

Carrot sticks like redwood trees!
Boulders hewn from solid cheese!
Cookies piled like mighty mountains!
Freely flowing fruit juice fountains!

Canyons carved in crunchy crackers,
Left unguarded by the snackers!
Grapes and chips and sweetened tea
Far as compound eyes can see!

Chris Columb-ant heaves a sigh,
Wipes a teardrop from his eye,
Then signals back to the horizon—
Time to start the colonizin’!


Skating is fun!
Skating is nice!
Strap on your skates
And do tricks on the ice!

Skating is lovely!
Skating is sweet!
Glide like an angel
With wings on your feet!

Out on the lake,
Or right here in the yard,
Skating’s so wonder—SPLAT!
. . . Skating is hard!

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Shopping Day

Need to go shopping.
Need to refill.
Tried to go yesterday.
Haven’t gone still!

Out of my cereal.
Out of my chips.
Out of my cookies
And crackers and dips.

Out of bananas,
And fresh out of bread.
Just eating olives
And paper instead.

Out of my melon,
Just got the rind.
Out of spaghetti sauce.
Out of my mind!

Wish I could go,
But I’ve sealed my own doom.
Out of deodorant—
Can’t leave my room!


Down in the bog,
Where the water moves slow,
They tell of a frog
With a voice extra low.

From his looks you would think
That he’d make a small beep,
But he’d give you a wink,
Then he’d croak long and deep.

And the ground, it would rumble!
The trees, they would shake!
Your cookie would crumble,
And so would your cake!

And although he was small
As a grasshopper’s thumb,
His croak was the call
For the raindrops to come.

So tiny and stealthy,
This one little froggy
Kept all the bog healthy
And squishy and soggy!

It just goes to show you
That if you are small,
With no one below you,
The smallest of all,

You really do matter—
It’s really your choice!
So make the world gladder,
And raise up your voice!

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Pizza Pirates!

Avast, all me hearties, prepare to set sail!
Yer belly will thank ye without any fail!
The hungriest ship on the seven high seas,
It rolls over oceans for red sauce and cheese!

The Plunderin’ Pirates of Pizza are here
To loot all yer slices and then disappear!
The scurviest scoundrels are waitin’ aboard,
Each slicin’ up bread with an extra sharp sword.

They slather the slices with garlic and butter.
The Cap’n then sharpens his hook-pizza-cutter,
Preparin’ to gully and serve on a plate,
Those hot stolen pizzas—in pieces of eight!

He grins his sly grin as we land at the dock
And plunder the pizzas with awe and with shock!
We gobble each crumb ’til our bellies are weighty,
And then we have fun—and what fun we have, matey!

We loot all the tokens of glitterin' gold,
And ransack the place where the prizes are sold,
Then push all the birthday guests outta the way,
And skeeball and pinball ’til “Anchors Aweigh!”

So come be a pirate and plunder with glee!
It’s full of adventure, and refills are free!


Thanksgiving Day is here once more
And right before we feast,
We all say what we’re thankful for—
A few small things, at least.

I’m thankful for my mom and dad,
My sisters too, I guess.
And all those cookies that I had,
And all their yumminess!

I’m thankful for my goldfish tank,
And all my friends at school,
And all the juice the baby drank,
And how she doesn’t drool.

I’m thankful for the nuts that grow
Right there in our backyard.
I’m thankful that the squirrels don’t throw
Them at me very hard.

I’m thankful for my toys and stuff,
And for my monster shirt.
I’m thankful when the dog says “Ruff!”
And rolls around in dirt!

I’m thankful for my jelly beans,
I’m thankful for the moon.
I’m thankful that Thanksgiving means
It’s Christmas very soon!

I’m thankful for the kind, the brave,
The nice ones young and old,
But mostly for the microwave,
’Cause now my food is cold!

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Power Chord

I want to play a power chord
On my brand new guitar.
But when I take the pick and strum
The sound won’t go too far.

What happened to my power chord?
It’s s’posed to scream and wail!
But when I pick up my guitar,
It’s just an epic fail!

Why can’t I rock my power chord
And set this song on fire?
And what’s this word “electric” mean?
And what’s this dangling wire?

Raised By

You’ve heard all the tales of the boy raised by wolves,
Or that girl who was raised by the camels.
And everyone knows of a family or two
Who behave like a pack of wild mammals.

But chances are good that you’ve not heard the story
Of two most unusual girls.
Twin sisters got lost, so they say, in the yard,
And were found by a pack of wild squirrels.

Well the squirrels were quite kindly—they took the girls in
And they raised each one up like a daughter.
They showed them which trees had the tastiest nuts
And which rain spouts gave off the best water.

The girls caught on quickly and loved the squirrel life.
It’s paradise up in the trees!
They snuggled, munched acorns, and screamed at the cat,
And leaped to the rooftop with ease.

Then one fateful day they were up in the tree
While the squirrels were off raiding the trash.
They leaped to the roof but, alas, were so big
That they busted right through with a crash!

They fell to the room where they’d lived long ago.
Going back to their kid-life was hard.
So they kept building nests and they kept hoarding food
Like they learned from their friends in the yard.

And that’s why our room is a mess, don’t you see?
For a squirrel, it’s in tip-top condition!
It’s not that we’re slobs, we just think it’s our duty
To honor our squirrely tradition!

Sunday, November 7, 2010


Wish on all the stars, my love,
The big ones and the small.
Don’t choose just one star above—
Wish wishes on them all!

A sweet wish on the twinkly star,
A wild wish on another.
A wish for friends both near and far
On that star and her brother.

A wish for love, a wish for peace,
A wish for smiles and laughter.
A wish that hope will never cease
’Til happy-ever-after.

A wish for joy throughout the Earth,
Across each land and nation.
A wish for mischief, messes, mirth
On every constellation.

A wish that all who see this star
Will know what kindness means.
A wish to have a green guitar,
A wish for jelly beans.

So many things you’re dreaming of,
So much inside of you.
So wish on all the stars, my love,
And may they all come true.

A Beastly Breakfast

I dropped a pancake on the floor!
How horrible! How awful!
I fed it to my dinosaur
And made a Belgian waffle.

The waffle got a little torn—
That bothered me the most!
I fed it to my unicorn
And made some raisin toast.

The raisin roast was charred and black.
I choked and started gaggin’!
But since I couldn’t send it back,
I fed it to my dragon.

I think I’ll make a sticky-roll.
I’d best not overheat it!
Since I don’t have a mountain troll,
I’m gonna have to eat it!

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Grandpa's Yard

I dug a hole in Grandpa's yard
While Grandpa was asleep.
A great big hole in Grandpa's yard—
I dug it good and deep.

There's got to be some treasure here
Beneath the dirt and stones.
Some buried box or secret stash—
I feel it in my bones!

A hidden trove of pirates' gold,
Or gems from foreign shores,
Or eggs and skulls and fossil teeth
From ancient dinosaurs!

Or maybe Grandpa's yard has got
A ship from outer space
That crashed and brought a friend for me
From some unheard-of race.

And so I'll dig up Grandpa's yard
Until I find the prize.
I'm pretty sure he knows it's there—
It can't be a surprise!

’Cause usually he's sleepy,
And his favorite sound's a yawn,
But if some kids are near his house,
He yells, "Get off my lawn!"

It must be something special,
Since he’s always on his guard.
I just can’t wait to find what’s lurking
Under Grandpa’s yard!


I'm just gonna sit here,
No need to get up.
I'm just gonna sit here
And stare at my cup.

It's so very restful
And peaceful, you know,
To stare at my cup
And just let my mind go.

Just let my mind wander
And roam far and free,
And stare at the cup
On the table by me.

On second thought, maybe
I'll go get a snack—
I think that my cup
Just began to stare back!

Sunday, October 17, 2010


Everywhere that you look,
And some places you don’t,
There are fairies to see,
Though you probably won’t.

There are fairies on daisies
And fairies on trees,
There are fairies who play
Hide and seek with your keys.

There are fairies of fire
And fairies of night,
There are fairies who flip and fling
Flapjacks in flight.

There are fairies all over,
Yes fairies galore,
Switching price tags and signs
At the grocery store.

They are merry and mischievous,
Not often scary.
They wave their wildflowers
And trim topiary.

And oh, how they frolic!
And oh, how they dance!
And oh, how they laugh
When they loosen your pants!

Then they’re gone in a flash,
On their paper-thin wings,
Off to do more ridiculous
Wonderful things.

So the next time you lose
A good sock in the dryer
That shows up again in
Your music in choir,

Just give a good laugh,
And the next time, be wary.
Each day’s April Fools
To your neighborhood fairy.


No matter how much food I eat,
I keep on getting thinner.
I slim down with each little treat,
Each breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I ate a brownie yesterday,
And now my belt is loose.
Ten pounds of fat fell clean away
From just one chocolate mousse!

My sandwich overflows the bun—
A toothpick would be great.
But when I eat it, I’ll be one!
Oh, what a sticky fate!

And next week is Thanksgiving Day—
You know what that’s about.
If I can’t keep the snacks at bay,
I might turn inside out!

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Fritter Critters

It's snack time at last,
And my hunger is vast!
The growl of my tummy is vicious!

I think I'll make fritters
Shaped up into critters.
They're funny and cute and delicious!

I mix up the dough,
Roll it out—here we go!
All aboard for the critter express!

I make little dough-ears,
Then dough-whiskers, dough-rears,
Plus a big gloppy gooey dough-mess!

But at last I am done,
And I'm ready for fun!
I assemble the pieces and bits.

I make bunnies and squirrels,
I make piggies with pearls,
Fixing each fritter fleck where it fits.

I make hippos and snails,
And some prehensile tails
That I stick to the rump of each possum.

Then I dip them in fat,
Fry them up in a vat,
And I wait for my fritters to blossom.

In a minute or three
They are plump as can be,
And I know that my snacks are complete.

But my belly stays empty!
They look good and tempty,
But sadly, they're too cute to eat!