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!