When my daughters Molly and Sally were little girls, I went through a Shel Silverstein phase, and each year at Christmas, or on their birthdays in February, I’d create poems for their enjoyment. They received them hand-written in fancy journals—like a collection of works.
Recently, I dug these journals out and, for fun, started reading some of the poems to my grandson Eli. He thought they were so funny I thought I’d share a sampling. They are circa ’99-ish.
Eli thought The Dumb Shoe was the funniest, and he kept stopping me in mid-read of the others and insist that we go back to it, and he’d crack up all over again. I hope these give you all a fraction of the enjoyment Eli got.
The Muse
I have a magic pencil.
It writes all by itself.
I took off its eraser.
Underneath there was an elf.
He writes my papers for me,
Thinks up all the ideas.
I can face my teacher now.
Toss aside my fears.
He isn’t good at math.
He can only count by twos.
So, I gave him a fitting name.
I call him “The Muse.”
The Dumb Shoe
Once there was a really dumb shoe,
Made in a factory in Kalamazoo.
It went out for a walk
Down a long, winding street
Before it realized, “Oh no! I need feet!”
Mom
My mom is a runner.
She zooms for miles every day.
I know she loves me dearly,
So she’ll never run away.
My mom and I are artists.
We like making things.
She made me, but not with clay,
Or glitter, glue and strings.
Mom loved me into being.
She got some help from dad.
They think I’m very special,
And that makes me feel glad.
Loss of Appetite
A wiry man walked by me.
He had very stinky feet.
I was going to buy a donut,
But now I don’t think I could eat.
Another Limerick
There once was a red horse named Frank.
His stable was dirty and stank.
I decided to clean it,
And I really did mean it.
I filled up a big army tank.
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