Sunday, September 26, 2010

Circus Performer

Circus Performer

Last week the circus came to town,
and I fell in love with the tents,
the clowns, the cotton candy,
and the peanuts for five cents.

I watched all three rings,
with a gleam in my eye,
I had to join the circus-
or at least try.

After the show was all over,
I went and found the ring master.
I told him of my plans,
I don't think my heart could beat any faster.

I told him I had dreams,
he said he could make them real.
He then told me of all the jobs,
before we made a deal.

You could swing high on the trapeze,
with only a thin net below,
and if you don't fall down,
you'll be the star of the show!

You could swallow fire,
and spray it from your mouth,
and if you don't burn up,
you'll be a hit from north to south!

We'll shoot you from the cannon,
but make sure you hit the mat,
we can't make a star out of you,
if right away you go splat!

You can put your head,
in the mouth of a lion,
and if he's not hungry,
you'll be a smash without tryin'!

You can dive from a ladder,
into a shallow tank,
if you make it- you'll be famous,
and have me to thank!

It's not only the acts my boy,
it's the sounds and the sights,
it's the side shows, food,
and the bright spot lights!

So what do you think,
my new found friend?
Join the show of all shows,
and begin the fun that won't end!

This sounds great all right,
but I can't do those stunts.
Do you think I could just clean up-
after the elephants?


Frog

Frog


If I was a frog
in a muddy bog,
I would find
a hollow log.
I would sit there
with a blank stare,
and bask in the sun
without a care.
Then I would try
to catch a fly.
After I ate it,
I would sit and wonder why.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Boys

Boys

*squeak*squeak*
There's a noise in the house.
*squeak*squeak*
Could it be a little mouse?

*squeak*squeak*
It's coming from somewhere.
*squeak*squeak*
Could it be gramma's rocking chair?

*squeak*squeak*
Now it's squeaking even more.
*squeak*squeak*
Is it the back screen door?

*squeak*squeak*
It's really a strange sound,
*squeak*squeak*
and it seems to be following me around.

*squeak*squeak*
"AHH!" yells mom. "Your shoes are wet and you've only had them a week!"
*squeak*squeak*
"Sorry mom. It's a nice day and I went wading in the creek."

*squeak*squeak*squeak*squeak*
As I ran from mom, I realized it was my shoes making the noise.
*squeak*squeak*squeak*squeak* 
I hope that gramma will tell my mom, "Boys will be boys."

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Poems and Ribosomes

Poems and Ribosomes

Poems and ribosomes
are both friends of mine.
My poems keep me happy,
ribosomes keep my DNA in line.

Poems don't need to flow
smooth like a snake,
but DNA needs to line up,
or you'll have a big mistake.

Poems can be simple,
or they can be complex.
DNA needs to be exact,
and with that, there's no flex.

Words in a poem,
in order should go.
Same with DNA,
or you'll end up in a freak show.

You could very well wake up,
with a huge nose on your forehead,
two right hands, forty one toes,
and eyes that are fiery red.

You might be eighteen feet tall,
and have a goose neck.
People would all stare and say,
"What the heck?"

So let your poems wander,
or do whatever they please,
but keep your ribosomes straight,
or out of your ear- you just might sneeze!