POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

THE CHILDREN’S HOUR – PROMPT #93

The best blooms in this garden of life have to be our children. They are our future; they are our promise. So it is with this in mind that we ask you to “write one for the kids!” Write a children’s poem. Don’t make it about a child, make it FOR the child. Make it fun, make it educational, make it whatever you think a child would appreciate and cherish.

MARIE ELENA’S SILLINESS:

Walt, you’ll remember this one.  I believe it is probably still your favorite, and it’s actually mine as well.  Happy birthday, Walt!  This is for you, and all the other silly-lovin’ kids of the world.  🙂

IF THE WHOLE WORLD WAS SILLY
Inspired by Shel Silverstein’s “If the World Was Crazy”
 
 If the whole world was silly, you know what I’d eat?
Worm Fettuccini, right off of the street.
Some caramelized whiskers of catfish today;
Tomorrow, perhaps a nice leather fillet.
 A handful of gravel from Mr. Green’s drive,
With honey bee’s knees from an elephant’s hive.
Gallons of hazelnut-chocolate-bean chili.
That’s what I’d eat if the whole world was silly.
 
If the whole world was silly, you know what I’d wear?
An upside-down tuba, and one for a spare.
A glove on my foot, and two socks on one hand,
Yesterday’s junk mail; fresh peach skin (or canned).
My big sister’s homework, my Uncle Jim’s lures,
And maybe that G.I. Joe lunch pail of yours.
Oversized dentures from Great, Great Aunt Milly.
That’s what I’d wear if the whole world was silly.
 
 If the whole world was silly, you know what I’d do?
I’d unzip the sky to let hippos skip through.
I’d hop into books, and I’d flip through my bed.
I’d butter my face, and smooth lip balm on bread.
I’d plant fish from seed, and teach star fruit to swim.
Then I’d color each glare with a nice shade of dim.
Everyone’s name would end with “The Frilly,”
If I was the queen, and the whole world was silly. 
 
© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2009

I think the birthday boy might be sleeping in. Shhh … party softly ’til he joins us again. ;)

WHO THE HECK WOKE ME…

MY BALLOON IS FULL OF HOT AIR

My balloon can soar and fly,
up in the blue and cloud filled sky.
traveling without a care
because it’s all full of hot air.

I think I’d like to be a balloon
and fly without a care,
but I can’t go fly for you see that I
am not full of hot air. Much.

© Copyright Walter the Frilly – 2013

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239 thoughts on “THE CHILDREN’S HOUR – PROMPT #93

  1. Laurie Kolp on said:

    Oh, great fun today… and Happy Birthday, Walt!

  2. Laurie Kolp on said:

    Plan B

    My puppy wanted to fly so I
    bought fairy wings
    from the costume shop
    and sprinkled them
    with glossy glitter.
    I tried to catch
    the saucy dog
    who only wanted to
    play dodge ball
    and hide-n-go-seek.
    From den to hall
    back and forth
    like a comedy show,
    he yip-yapped
    and I giggled
    with merry delight,
    until I smish-smashed
    the fairy wings
    into my closet door,
    was tick-tackled
    with wet puppy kisses.

  3. connielpeters on said:

    The Horse

    The thunder of the horses’s hooves
    Does rumble ‘cross the ground
    So like majestic kings he moves
    Amazing all around

    And then he slows down to a trot
    With jiggles and a bounce
    His horsey nose a whiff has caught
    Of something just an ounce

    I hold the apple in my hand
    Now he’s so meek and mild
    For just a fruity taste to land
    Became just like a child

  4. Great start, Connie and Laurei!

    Now, all my ICL buddies … this is your time to shine! 😉

    Marie Elena

  5. Losing Things

    My glove was in my pocket.
    That’s where I saw it last,
    but now it isn’t in there.
    I’d better find it fast.

    Perhaps it’s in my backpack,
    or maybe in my room.
    If I don’t want my Mom to know
    I’d better find it soon.

    It seems I’ve looked all over.
    It’s nowhere to be found.
    I’ve covered every inch of floor
    but it’s just not around.

    I’m really getting worried–
    I haven’t found it yet.
    My Mom is gonna kill me.
    How much worse can it get?

    She says I’m ALWAYS losing things.
    I guess she’s kind of right.
    I just can’t keep my clothing straight,
    I must not be too bright.

    Whoopee! I can’t believe it!
    I found it in the john.
    Before I next misplace it,
    I’d better put it on.

    I worried all for nothing–
    I wish I’d known before.
    But now, where is my homework?
    I left it on the floor…

  6. This is great! Happy Birthday to Ol’ Santa-dude! And Marie – loved the poem! The other poems here so far are awesome, too. ♥

  7. Oh Marie, my kids would have loved your wonderful poem. I think as adults we still all wish the whole world was silly!

  8. So…Have You Seen…?

    So… have you seen my bright blue cat?
    How ‘bout my sea-green jaguar?
    I’m sure you won’t think, ‘Hey! Bizarre!’
    or, “Mom, you’re just some crazed ol’ bat!”

    Instead, you’ll say, “Oh look! What dat?
    What hues hide in our big paint jar?”
    How ‘bout my sea-green jaguar?
    So… have you seen my bright blue cat?

    We like our pets in color. That
    (at least in our house) is just par.
    Pink fur and feathers? Superstar!
    A fuchsia frog! A real red rat!
    So… have you seen my bright blue cat?

    ###

  9. WORDS TO THE WISE

    “Happy the man who can call today his own.”
    –Horace

    Take one step at a time.
    Don’t hasten towards regret.
    To the future, be blind.
    Forget the past; don’t whine.
    The present’s our best bet.
    Take one step at a time.
    You’ll find reason to shine
    And never cause to fret.
    To the future, be blind.
    This moment’s yours and mine.
    The next is not here yet.
    Take one step at a time.
    Don’t look for worry signs
    Of days we haven’t met.
    To the future, be blind.
    Today is on the line.
    So far it’s all we get.
    Take one step at a time.
    To the future, be blind.

    #

  10. “The Cat and the Dolphin”

    The cat and the dolphin, they did meet!
    was on a very watery street.
    “My, my your whiskers tickle my chin”
    said the Dolphin.
    “But your mouth is as smooth as ice cream”
    said the feline!
    With awe they rubbed each others soft front
    It was love at first touch, to be blunt.

    (Too awesome! enter on search line “dolphin and cat on utube”. You will love this video if you have not seen it yet. I can’t figure out how to do the direct link here, sorry)

  11. CORRECTION:

    “But your mouth is like ice cream, sublime,
    said the feline!”

  12. sheryl kay oder on said:

    Marie, I think Walt simply let the expert write a poem. You are a natural. I’m good at silly, but it is adult silly. This will be a stretch.

  13. Nursery rhyme

    A famous Jill went off in a huff
    To buy a new muff
    to soothe her ruffled pride.
    Running down the track
    came Bill and Ben
    and a little fat hen
    all cackling with laughter
    Jack never came back
    to live with them all
    happily ever after.
    So ends the story:
    after all that furore
    in peace, signed
    yours truly, Anon.

  14. sheryl kay oder on said:

    Not Spelling!

    It’s great fun to read and write,
    but then they said to spell.
    I think and think with all my might
    but I simply don’t spell well.

    Does kat start with a K or C?
    They both can sound the same.
    I cannot for the life of me
    guess for which sounds I aim.

    First you need to hear it well
    when you sound it out.
    But how can I ever tell
    what spelling’s all about

    when As and Is, Os and Us
    get mixed up in my head?
    It’s such a challinge to choose.
    Do I use an I or E instead?

    I’d want cheat and use spell check
    but that is not allowed.
    Besides would I pick be or bee
    to please that teacher crowd?

  15. Another one for the older child:

    A VIRTUAL LIFE

    When I’m feeling sad and blue
    there is something I can do:
    I walk away from trial and strife
    and straight into my virtual life.

    In this new life I can be free
    of all those things that torment me.
    I’m the lovely princess bride
    who lives the life that I decide.

    My friends are perfect by design.
    They worship me and treat me fine.
    My work is only what I choose
    and I decide which worlds to use.

    If my dreams were so defined
    that they were just what I designed,
    then I would choose to never wake.
    i’d stay in dreamland, no mistake.

    But since my dreams are uncontrolled,
    I’ll use the mouse that I now hold
    and with one click avoid this strife,
    escaping to my virtual life.

  16. A TREASURY OF POEMS

    I found a magic book of verse
    and hid it in my closet.
    Each page I turned was like a purse,
    each word a gold deposit.

    I read the poems and then again.
    They brought much wealth to me.
    Those words and phrases, truest friends,
    Oh, they filled this boy with glee!

    One night I laid me down to sleep
    and dreamed my book caught fire.
    I heard the poets scream and weep,
    their words burned on the pyre.

    When morning came, no magic there,
    I searched but could not find it.
    But poems I learned I make appear,
    so I really do not mind it.

    No greater treasure on this earth
    can please me like a poem will.
    Those words that dance in measured worth
    bring magic to me still!

    #

  17. Marie, your silliness is impeccable. I lovelovelove your poem! It reminds me a lot of Jack Prelutsky, whose poetry I adored as a child. 🙂

  18. I love this prompt because I love children’s poetry. And your example had me smiling, Marie Elena.

  19. Don’t get me wrong here, I love schoolwork! I just know some people who don’t. 😉

    Now Wouldn’t That Be Fun?

    Homework? Oh what a drag,
    What do I need homework for?
    Homework’s not interesting,
    It’s just straight fact: what a bore!

    Now wouldn’t it be fun,
    If I could turn every page
    Into a fairyland?
    I’d so jump out of this cage!

    I’d shove numbers aside,
    And tiptoe through Wonderland,
    Leave math, reading behind,
    And fly straight to Neverland.

    There’d be no boring tests,
    No scowling problems to stare
    Straight at me from the page,
    I would be free as the air!

    I think I’d better finish this work,
    Wonder where I can hire some magic…

  20. Grandpa’s Ridin’

    Hold your horses, lace up yer boots!
    Crazy Grandpa, is on the loose!
    He’s ridin’ hard, and ridin’ fast,
    He’ll ride long after, daylight’s past.

    Up all night, checkin’ the list,
    If it’s left behind, sure be missed,
    Toys for the boy and books fer learnin’,
    Gotta get movin, daylight’s burnin.

    Lovely ladies await his arrival,
    Nothin’ can stop him, they’re his survival,
    Daughters of beauty, maidens of joy,
    The envy of every father, son, and boy.

    Hardly wait to see, and hold em tight,
    Just to look upon em, oh what a sight,
    Hearts of gold, wisdom, and love,
    Pure treasures, tall blessings, from above.

    Keep the light on, and the coffee ready,
    Should reach by nightfall, keepin’ it steady.
    Clean yer rifles, polish yer guns,
    Bring plenty of ammo, for all the sons.

    Turkey aplenty, deer on the hoof,
    If we run out of room, we’ll raise the roof,
    Everythin’ made with lovin’ care,
    It’ll be a feedin’, none to compare.

    Time will pass quick, but it’s worth the ride,
    Got a good saddle and the paint likes the stride,
    He’s just as eager and ready to go,
    Comin’ back home, we’ll take it real slow.

    Saddle yer horses, hold back the snow!
    Grandpa’s ridin’, he’s a comin’, don’t ya know!

  21. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    ADORABLE, Meg, My grandchildren wil LOVE this!! Walt, Sooo cute. And Happy Birthday!!

  22. janeshlensky on said:

    Marie, wow! This is a terrific fun inventive snappy…..etc. poem. Happy Birthday, Walt!

    Great Ideas for Risk Takers

    Take a sip from the lip of a frog on a bog,
    Take a dive into hives full of honey,
    Take a prune from a loon, shake a snake on the lake,
    Tweak the rose of a nose when it’s runny.

    Put a skunk in your trunk, open rice for the mice,
    Get up close to the crows when they’re cawing,
    Climb a fence, take the horn of a bull in the corn,
    Stick around for the sound of his pawing.

    During spring fling, you may make a lovely bouquet
    From this fine leafy-vined poison ivy;
    Put a leash on five geese, pull them close to your knees,
    Goose a rhino’s caboose when he’s lively.

    Pinch the fat on a cat, pin a tail on a whale,
    Feed hot chilies to billy goats gruff.
    Pour cement in your tent, put duct tape on an ape,
    And you’ll learn: often less is enough.

    There is fun to be had, (though some fun makes you sad),
    With a mom or a dad or your friends.
    Every “why not?” you’ve got may lead you to a pot
    Full of troubles that double offense.

    Some adventures prevent your attaining old age.
    Some advice is a slice of disaster.
    Use your head and instead of a life filled with strife,
    You can smile all the while and be Master.

  23. STICKS AS BOATS

    sticks as boats
    speeding down the stream,
    spinning and
    diving and
    swooping around rocks, as rain
    makes the course faster

  24. Hic Sunt Dracones (Here There Be Dragons)

    Of all the stuff we like to do or songs we like to sing
    There’s nothing more we like as much as being on the wing
    We polish up our scales, and we three get in our wagons
    Scoot out to the hill and in no time, we are flying dragons

    Especially at the end of the day when the light is pretty tricky
    You may see us zooming by your house going lickety-splicky
    And if you squint your eyes just so and look off sideways too
    You will swear three fire-breathing dragons just blew by you

  25. Happy birthday, Walt! Marie, I ADORE that poem.

    Here’s one of mine:

    A Heartfelt Plea
    (On Being Busted for Lunchroom Rowdiness)

    The lunch lady hates me–
    I know that it’s true.
    She brews salmonella
    To poison my stew.

    There’s mud in the jello
    And sand in the soup,
    And hair in the hot dogs,
    And–what is THIS goop?

    The meatloaf has teeth, and
    It’s centuries old;
    The corn is infected
    With some kind of mold.

    The butter is rancid,
    The pudding’s a mess,
    The salad is slimy
    And really, unless

    She hated me, why would
    The food all be blue?
    It’s toxic, I know it,
    But what can I do?

    They force me to eat it.
    I don’t stand a chance.
    Unless I hide French fries
    And fruit in my pants,

    It’s hopeless—they stare ’til
    I empty my plate
    Of death-dealing glop, and
    I’m left to my fate.

    So please, Mrs. Jones, please
    Do understand why
    I CAN’T settle down—it’s
    So noisy to die!

  26. Zoo Keeper

    When I am a parent, you know what I’ll do
    I’ll run my house like a magical zoo.
    The children will each have a space to themselves
    and I will allow them to climb all the shelves.
    Furniture will be for climbing and bouncing
    and brothers and sisters will always be pouncing.
    They’ll wrestle and holler and make a big mess
    but as their parent, I still will not stress.
    I’ll join in the ruckus and let out a roar
    for life in our house will not be a bore.
    Unlike my parents, the lamest of zoo keepers
    I will not insist on clean, quiet sleepers.
    When I am a parent, you know what I’ll do
    I’ll run my house like a magical zoo.

  27. slockard on said:

    Marie Elena, you have a gift for writing for children:)
    Happy birthday Walt!

  28. slockard on said:

    Nobody

    Nobody must be lurking again
    one sock is missing from the laundry bin,
    the last chocolate chip muffin was eaten last night,
    and Hiss, my pet snake, gave mom quite a fright
    when Nobody left the cage open up wide
    and Hiss slithered out and up her to her side.

    Nobody always makes such a mess,
    when there should be more, there always is less.
    He leaves out the movies and video games.
    He riddles my room without any shame.
    I hate him, I do. And, yes you would too
    if your mom blamed you for what Nobody did do.

  29. Marjory M thompson on said:

    LITTLE MAN’S TALE

    My name is Little Man
    ten inches tall, I am.
    I slid down a sunbeam
    to eat peaches and cream
    out of a purple bowl
    that sat on a sweet roll.

    While most folks cannot see,
    there is a real me,
    but it takes believing
    for hearing and seeing.

    A little guru, am I,
    always active and spry.
    Year by year on the go,
    but I don’t age or grow.
    Always age nine I’ll be
    and that’s O-K with me.

    I love to run and sing,
    then twirl round in a ring.
    If wind is blowing right,
    I’ll try to fly a kite.
    If snow piles in the yard,
    go sledding on a card.

    With my dog named ‘Itty
    (Who’s so ‘Itty, bitty)
    I go adventuring,
    hiking, biking, swimming.
    He likes to go with me
    to see the things I see.

    One time as I sea-swam
    I got into a jam.
    A fish came after me,
    I thought, “Jonah, I’ll Be.”
    Fish thought I was his lunch,
    I upped my speed a bunch.

    Tired, I had to stop,
    tread water at one spot,
    held hand like traffic cop,
    told fish he had to stop,
    that he must go away,
    I was not lunch that day.

    Another thing I do,
    which can’t be done by you,
    close my eyes, blow a flute
    and through the air I scoot
    from one room to the next,
    not learned from any text.

    Scooting up in the air,
    without worry or care.
    Fun to go here to there
    with no traffic to bear.
    Like magic carpet ride
    with ‘Itty at my side.

    I fly about with birds,
    to their songs I give words.
    Believing, they can see,
    hearing, they sing with me.
    We share trips we’ve taken
    And those we will be makin’.

    When the day is ending,
    it is time for eating
    I scoot back to my home
    (my earth home not moon home)
    Have quiet time of ease
    With one, who believing – sees.

    By Marjory M Thompson
    Feb 2013

  30. Happy birthday, Walt. 🙂

    Melissa’s Meltdown

    And Melissa was off and at it again:

    an angry full-on sullen red-faced
    rage, engaged in a seething,
    glowing and glowering fit,
    a I-won’t-budge where I sit,

    a bust-heaving cry, long
    and prolonged enough to prove
    she had no wish to be sweet, no
    interest in sugar and spice or anything

    so ickily, sickeningly nice. She
    wanted ice cream and she figured
    that a meltdown would somehow
    get her some now. But when she looked

    at her mum’s expressionless face,
    there was no trace of ice cream for her
    troubles and screams, so she smiled
    and tried a coquettish ‘Please’.
    .

  31. This is a sequel to my poem “Frogs & Chewing Gum” which you can listen to on the podcast player on my website.

    Hens and Honey

    Hector Freckle and the Tickle Monster
    Went on a trip to France
    The monster ate frog’s legs
    And Hector learnt to dance

    Hens and honey make a mess
    And will often spoil your Sunday best

    They went up the Eiffel Tower
    And took photos of the views
    The monster tickled tourists
    So they could jump the queues

    Hens and honey make a mess
    And will often spoil your Sunday best

    The looked at all the famous sights
    And went to lots of museums
    The monster tickled statues
    When no one else could see him

    Hens and honey make a mess
    And will often spoil your Sunday best

    They had a boat ride on the river
    And ate from a golden dish
    And as they passed under bridges
    The monster tickled the fish

    Hens and honey make a mess
    And will often spoil your Sunday best

    When it was time to go home
    The plane was shiny,big and long
    They smiled at each other
    And sang a little song

    Hens and honey make a mess
    And will often spoil your Sunday best
    Don’t give jam to a goose
    For if you do he’ll be no use

    And if the chrorus don’t stay indented I will spit!

    Iain

  32. Pingback: Melissa’s Meltdown « Misky

  33. WOW! I’m completely blown away by all the fantastic children’s poems here today. Superb!

  34. Mothers and Fellers

    Mother tells me to clean my ears
    To eat my greens
    To wash my face
    Mother tells me to pick up my toys
    Be nice to my sister
    And put things back in place

    Mother tells me that worms ain’t fer pockets
    And mother tells me
    To let the frog go
    Mother tells me I’m growin’ too fast
    But I think I’m growin’
    Awfully slow

    Mother tells me to shush, baby’s sleepin’
    But I was simply
    Chasin’ my ball
    Sometimes I think that mothers and fellers
    Really don’t understand
    Each other at all

    Mother tells me to mind my manners
    She tells me its bedtime
    When it’s quarter-past noon
    She says do your homework
    Do your best, and remember
    You’re gonna be a man someday soon

    Mother tells me I’m her little sunshine
    She tousles my hair
    An’ hugs me real tight
    She makes my favorite fruit cobbler for dinner
    And she doesn’t scold me
    When I snitch a wee bite

    At bedtime she listens
    And I tell her my thinkin’s
    She smiles and tucks me in with my football
    Well, maybe, perhaps mothers understand fellers
    Just a weeny-teeny little bit
    After all

    © Janet Martin

  35. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Around Gram’s Campfire: She’d Rather Wear Rocks

    “I’ll trade my socks
    for all your rocks!”

    My Precious said to me,

    “But why my rocks
    you need my socks
    For rocks can’t warm your feet.”

    “Just throw the rocks
    into a pot
    And I will walk across.”

    “To warm your feet?!”
    “Yes, helps me sleep!!”

    I took my Silly socks.

    (My fashion sense can be a little Quirky at times… :)! )

  36. Walt, “MY BALLOON IS FULL OF HOT AIR” is fun and made me laugh. But,
    Marie, “IF THE WHOLE WORLD WAS SILLY” is absolutely perfectly childlike! I think YOU deserve the bloom this week! Shel Silverstein would be proud. 🙂

    Back later to read more. For now, here’s my childish poem for this prompt:

    Clean Your Room!

    “What a disaster!” I heard her shout.
    “Straighten this room, if you want to go out!
    These toys and clothes, please, pick them up!
    (Can’t argue with Mom, so I just muttered, “yup.”)

    ’Straighten it up’ – that’s what she said –
    so I kicked my laundry beneath the bed,
    and all the stuffed toys (my collection is vast)
    went into the closet – really fast.
    The rest of the toys? Couldn’t help myself –
    I jammed them tight onto each book shelf.

    Then I called her back to inspect the place,
    but I still wasn’t done. (I could tell by her face.)
    “Clean clothes stacked on the bed can’t stay –
    and the Legos and books must be all put away,
    or no computer and no TV!”
    (That’s the threat she offered me.)

    But, my closet was crammed – couldn’t shut the door,
    and my bookshelves? Full of toys galore!
    So the clothes & books & Lego blocks
    I stuffed inside my big toy box.

    Then I called her back to inspect once more,
    and she smiled and… I ran out the door.
    “The place looks good!” That’s what she said.
    (I hope she doesn’t look under the bed.)

  37. The Monster Within

    A monster’s living in my head;
    I don’t know how he got there.
    Shouldn’t he camp under my bed?
    I used to smell his rot there,

    beside my dirty socks and shoes
    beneath a mound of clutter,
    or in my closet see his ooze,
    hear chuckles that he utters.

    But when I cleaned my mess away,
    my monster was not found;
    instead I must confess today
    I feel him all around.

    I realize he’s in my eyes,
    alert to any mischief.
    He makes me do what I despise
    and gives me no relief.

    At first I only sassed my mom,
    was rude at school to teachers.
    Where could this all be coming from?
    Inside me lives a creature

    that lurks in darkness in my thoughts
    and has the worst behavior.
    He laughs about the pain he’s brought
    and makes me crave a savior.

    I lie and curse, enact the worst
    of actions he can think of,
    and I get punished last and first
    whenever there’s the stink of

    a bit meanness, craft or prank,
    even when I’m not guilty.
    It’s him whose evil I can thank
    for making me so filthy.

    I told my dad why I’m so bad—
    I used to be a good child—
    and learned that every person’s had
    a monster in them gone wild.

    The trick, he told me, is to tame
    your monster, love and feed him,
    but always know you must restrain
    your monster: never heed him.

    Let him express his worst and best
    but never act upon it.
    He’ll growl and snarl and bang his chest
    then settle down—you’ve won it!

    Dad says his monster’s like a pet
    and hardly speaks at all,
    but I must master monsters yet
    to make mine small, not tall.

    When I see naughty people now,
    I know they need to shed
    their monstrous shame; I’ll help them tame
    the monsters in their head.

  38. For my daughter, Anne!

    THANKS!

    This giant work of floral art
    inspires me every day
    as I sit at the computer and
    with words I start to play.

    But every now and then
    I turn and glance to the side
    where my eyes take a new focus
    a source of my motherly pride.

    The wooden frame is painted pink
    like the enormous tulip that it frames
    amidst a backdrop of blue sky and green grass
    criss-crossing in the way your brush aims.

    You painted this when you were six
    It makes my day now that you are 26!

  39. Pingback: Rainbow Reason | Whimsygizmo's Blog

  40. Rainbow Reason

    When you’re feeling blue,
    I’ll bring some red and
    we’ll make a purple squish.
    Smear some on your shoe,
    and some on your head and
    we’ll both make a wish.

    If you’re turning yellow,
    I’ll blow some blue, a
    bubble made to pop.
    All green and mellow,
    we’ll know what to do
    as we float up to the top.

    When the day goes red,
    I’ll yell of yellow and
    an orange glow will flow.
    I’ll frost your head, and
    one sweet fellow
    you’ll be in this rainbow show.

    We can change our tone
    and heap our hues
    together, a color cascade.
    You’re never alone;
    when we paint in twos,
    we’ve got it made in the shade.

  41. Walt and Marie, I loved both of yours. Marie, yours tickled me to no end! 🙂

  42. Toes of my Childhood

    My feet have always loved
    The tickle of fresh spring grass
    Those first warm days when kids

    Were allowed to run barefoot
    Splashing through puddles
    After a summer downpour.

    Exploring a muddy spot in the lawn
    Wriggling through a newly tilled garden
    Making crazy foot-prints on hot
    Cement sidewalks..

    Those were the days when I was proud
    Of my webbed toes. No one else in our
    Neighborhood had that distinction.

    It was the only thing, I felt that
    Gave me any kind of importance.
    And when the time came to put on our shoes –
    It was gone.

  43. These bricks, these bricks are
    everywhere
    in my pantry and the green chair.
    We’ve tried to sort them all by color
    How they escape?
    I’ll always wonder-
    The plastic bins
    Never can contain them-
    Because he’s always
    rearrangin’

    We pick them up and then, just then-
    It’s time to pick them up again!

    How do they always multiply?
    It’s as the’ve fallen from the sky!

    But my boy’s mind’s for sure a spinnin’.
    and he always is a grinnin’

    When I say, “go ahead and play!”
    and then perhaps, someday
    I’ll be riding or flying or sleeping in
    a super invention
    created just by him

    all because this mommy said-
    “ok- you can build them on my bed!”

    There can never, ever be enough
    of this bricky, buildy stuff.
    Creator, cars and technic too-
    Building- and creating-
    All day
    is what we do!

    OUCH!!
    I just stepped on a red one!

    Thanks for the prompt! I’ll post it back on http://www.wordtraveling.com with a brick photo.. or two:)

  44. Grab Your Crayons!

    Take up your crayons
    of rainbow hues.
    Color anything you choose.

    Instead of coloring inside lines,
    make new ones to define
    your own design, like trees of blue.

    Perhaps on branches of lemon yellow
    create brand new birds, like
    green-feathered, twelve-eyed fellows.

    Let your ideas drift in your head.
    Think of cool animals while in bed,
    then draw your thoughts, like purple bread.

  45. Marie and Walt–wonderful poems!! Marie, I love Shel, you did him a great tribute there 🙂 And Walt, your puns always warm my heart (so does hot air…)–thank you

  46. This Halloween

    Come follow me this Halloween
    Into a world you’ve never seen,
    Where goblins creep and zombies dance
    And ghosts lurk just beyond your glance.
    An old witch riding on her broom
    Is silhouetted by the moon,
    And from her perch she’s looking down
    Upon the unsuspecting town
    Where house to house the children go
    Led by the jack o lantern’s glow.
    They wander through the chilly night,
    Those horrors hidden from their sight.
    If you would like to join this scene,
    Come follow me on Halloween.

  47. Get Your Giggles Going

    Let’s do a little wiggle
    watch that belly jiggle,
    then hear the belly laughs
    that come from each small giggle!

    Make a funny face
    I’ll make one back, it’s a race!
    My tongue is out, my eyes are crossed
    Click! A camera snap, giving chase!

    The tickle monster is here
    let’s give a little cheer, (cheer!)
    as I chase you around the room
    your giggles are very near.

    I’ve caught you at last
    and all you do is laugh and laugh!
    It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard
    coming from such a little bird!

    Get your giggles going!

  48. Jelly Fish Kisses

    Jelly fish kisses
    and tickle wishes
    and toes all in a row

    Rainbow lollipops
    and sticky kiss pops
    and giggles to and fro

    Soft, silky ringlets
    and warm snuggle hugs
    a healthy summer glow

    Pockets full of frogs
    and bugs on a log
    and rocks that are just so

    Giggles that tickle
    and words that bring laughs
    and putting on a show

    Kissing little ones
    when the day is done
    sweet dreams, off you go.

  49. Itty

    Bitty

    Kitty

    Bounced right into the city,
    Saw a little girl named Kaylee D
    Who invited him in, tee-hee.

    What would they name the itty bitty
    that sat on the couch with Kaylee D?
    It’s not easy as you will see.

    They liked the names Minnie or Littie
    Until the Vet said to Kaylee D
    You need a boys name, fiddly-dee!

    They thought of boy names like Freddie,
    Teddi and Confetti, till Kaylee D
    Shouted, I have it—my kitty is Vinny D!

  50. Strawberry Chocolate Kittens

    By David De Jong

    We walked the trail
    Carrying a pail
    Of strawberry chocolate kittens

    We found a stork
    Holding a fork
    Eating waffles and mittens

    We talked to a giraffe
    Building a raft
    To sail across the creek

    His spots would surple
    And turn purple
    Whenever he would speak

    He gave us a ride
    With just one stride
    Chasing polka-dot lamas

    Then to our surprise
    What came to our eyes
    But pigs in green pajamas

    It helped them to hide
    From the squirrely snide
    Who lived in trees of trumpets

    So we hurried back home
    To our snow-globe dome
    And had some tea and crumpets

    Grandma couldn’t believe
    Our story we retrieved
    Calling it just a fancy tale

    Being old yet very keen
    She never heard nor ever seen
    A thingamajig called a pail

  51. Iris D on said:

    Turnaround Farm

    I moved to a farm that is upside down
    The kittens they fly and the eagles lay down
    The pigs moo in their stall
    While the dogs munch on corn
    The sheep say neigh
    While the cow crows all morn.
    We get milk from the horses,
    And eggs from the sheep
    The butterflies go buzz
    While the pup goes peep, peep.
    Chickens lay by the hearth
    And bark at the moon
    While the coytoes bleat baa
    And wake the raccoon.
    We eat pizza for breakfast
    Oatmeal is for lunch,
    My fave is the supper
    and eggs that go crunch.
    If you travel the highway
    Dont come here by car
    You travel here by horseback
    And follow the star.

  52. Pingback: Turnaround Far (prompt from Poetic Bloomings) | Irisdeurmyer’s Weblog

  53. Limerick

    A message for you, my dear cat:
    The hairball was great, thanks for that.
    You vomit with flair
    To show us you care,
    But give me a hug, not a rat.

  54. Happy belated B-day Walt!!

    Yes I Am

    You acted like a kid
    They said
    I laughed and answered
    Yes, I did!
    I want to live joyously
    I’ll oooh and ahhh
    Frequently
    I’ll laugh out loud
    And
    Skip and play
    No matter what
    Other people say
    I’ll lick my fingers
    If they’re sweet
    And smile at everyone
    I meet
    I’ll hug my friends
    Squeeze them tight
    And shout in delight
    At the stars at night
    I’ll spin spin spin spin
    Till I’m dizzy and fall
    And not care
    What anyone thinks
    At all

    Okay, so this really isn’t a kid poem, it’s more for the inner kid in all of us, that was just where my muse went–enjoy!

  55. Driving Fun

    Yipee! Look at me!
    I’m driving for the first time.
    As I am cruising along I proceed
    to shift the gears, increasing speed.

    Vroom! Vroom!
    Watch me go! Faster than fast.
    I’m passing people one by one.
    Driving a car is so much fun.

    Beep! Beep!
    Get out of my way!
    Hands on steering wheel, holding tight.
    Turning quickly, I swerve to the right.

    Bumpity-bump!
    Is this Pothole City?
    This certainly is a bumpy road,
    and it seems my car has slowed.

    Putt! Putt!
    Not much longer.
    Oh, how I wish this would never end.
    But, hey, mom’s coming round the bend.

    Smile! Smile!
    Mom’s cart is full.
    But groceries aren’t all she has got.
    She’s got another coin to throw in the slot.

    Yipee! Yahoo! Look at me!
    I’m driving for the second time.
    I’m a five-year-old racing star
    on the supermarket’s kiddie car.

    L. Hofke

  56. In the Wilds

    I’m the only one awake,
    in the dark, dark tent,
    in the tent, in the dark,
    just me.

    I’m the only one awake,
    and I wish that I could sleep
    but I can’t ’cause I really
    have to—

    Ohhhh….

    My Uncle Jim is snoring,
    so he must be sound asleep.
    He’s louder than an angry
    bumblebee.

    My brother Jack is mumbling
    and my sister is a corpse.
    Me? I really, really, really
    have to—

    Ohhhh…

    Mom said that I could wake her
    if I had to go outside,
    and she’d hold the flashlight steady
    just for me.

    But I don’t think I’m a baby.
    I can do this for myself,
    since I am the only one
    who needs to—

    Ohhhh…

    I fumble for my shoes
    in the dark, dark tent.
    Where’s the flashlight? No, that’s only
    Annie’s knee.

    There it is. Now I’m set,
    and I—shh!—unzip the flap,
    but I do so wish I didn’t
    have to—

    Ohhhh…

    Oh, this flashlight’s awful dim,
    and it’s cold out here, and dark,
    and there’s funny noises whispering
    to me.

    But I’m brave and I’m bold
    and the night can’t frighten me
    ’cause I very, very much do
    need to—

    Ohhhh…

    I wish I could remember where
    my uncle dug that pit.
    I guess I’ll just go find
    a friendly tree.

    I hope nobody minds.
    I haven’t got a choice.
    It’s like that when you’ve really
    got to—

    Ohhhh…

    What’s that light, in the distance,
    over there? It calls to me.
    I stumble through the bushes
    just to see.

    It’s a porch—our back porch!
    Such relief! I am saved.
    Maybe afterwards I’ll see
    what’s on TV….

  57. At the Zoo with You

    One, two
    let’s go the zoo!
    Three, four
    look at the boar!
    Five, six
    monkey doing tricks!
    Seven, eight
    do penguins skate?
    Nine, ten
    where is Ben?
    Oh dear.
    Ten, nine
    those Hyena’s whine.
    Eight, seven
    I see swans! Eleven!
    Six, five
    watch that dolphin dive!
    Four, three
    let’s let them all free!
    Two, one
    the day is done.

  58. I just posted this over at Poetic Asides but realized it would fit here as well.

    Dancing Hippos
    (An Ode to Sandra Boynton)

    Animals are for children.

    There is a line of books
    that I quite like to read,
    I read them to my children
    they use to beg and plead.

    There were elephants in pajamas
    and various barking dogs,
    monsters with horns
    and dancing hogs.

    There were pajama parties
    and snuggle puppies too
    and lonely hippopotamuses
    and one about stinky stew.

    They’re still up on the shelf
    and I’ve been known to sneak one down,
    like just a few seconds ago
    when I needed to turn my frown.

    Animals are for everyone.

  59. Happy Belated Birthday, Walt. Hope it was fun.
    Marie, your poem is just incredible. You really do have a knack for telling a children’s story. I vote for you getting this week’s bloom.

  60. I’ve read each poem and comment, but haven’t found the time this week to comment myself. 😦 I have to say that I’m blown away by all the extraordinary feedback on my poem. Thank you all SOOO much! I also have to say that you all did a bang up job with children’s poetry this week. It’s a different type of art in itself, and so much of the heart of it was captured this week. I THOROUGHLY enjoyed reading!

    Thanks to Walter the Frilly for this fun prompt!

    Marie Elena 😀

  61. Pingback: For the Littles…(a haiku) | Metaphors and Smiles

  62. Pingback: Remember To Play | echoes from the silence

  63. REMEMBER TO PLAY

    As
    you
    grow up
    don’t forget
    how much fun it is
    to run and skip and jump and hop.
    Because one day you might ask yourself, when did I stop?
    Tie a string around your finger
    if you think it helps.
    Bottom line,
    just please
    don’t
    stop.

    2013-03-22
    P. Wanken

    Written for Prompt #93: The Children’s Hour

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