DADDY FELL INTO THE POND
Everyone grumbled. The sky was grey.
We had nothing to do and nothing to say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
And then there seemed to be nothing beyond,
Then
Daddy fell into the pond!
And everyone's face grew merry and bright,
And Timothy danced for sheer delight.
"Give me the camera, quick, oh quick!
He's crawling out of the duckweed!" Click!
Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking silently,
And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft,
And it sounded as if the old drake laughed.
Oh, there wasn't a thing that didn't respond
When
Daddy Fell into the pond!
We had nothing to do and nothing to say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
And then there seemed to be nothing beyond,
Then
Daddy fell into the pond!
And everyone's face grew merry and bright,
And Timothy danced for sheer delight.
"Give me the camera, quick, oh quick!
He's crawling out of the duckweed!" Click!
Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking silently,
And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft,
And it sounded as if the old drake laughed.
Oh, there wasn't a thing that didn't respond
When
Daddy Fell into the pond!
BATHROOM BREAK -- OOPS TOO LATE!
I sit here in my chair
Wriggling like a worm
I hope my teacher doesn't see me
Jiggle, wiggle, squirm.
I shift to the left
I scoot to the right
I cross my legs over
and I squeeze them awfully tight.
Perhaps I should have gone
To the bathroom when she said
Oh, no I feel a tinkle
Now my face is turning red!
Wriggling like a worm
I hope my teacher doesn't see me
Jiggle, wiggle, squirm.
I shift to the left
I scoot to the right
I cross my legs over
and I squeeze them awfully tight.
Perhaps I should have gone
To the bathroom when she said
Oh, no I feel a tinkle
Now my face is turning red!
TO MY ALARM CLOCK
When the peace is ruptured by a horrible beeping.
My serenity ripped asunder, sudden and drastic
By this evil, demonic, red-eyed piece of plastic.
I roll over in pain and pound on the snooze,
Groaning, moaning, thinking 'What's there to lose?'
'Don't make me get up, just nine minutes more.'
The same thing I've said every morning before.
It's not that I hate mornings or dread the new day.
It's just that I loathe waking up in this way.
I'd much rather simply rise up with the light,
Glowing in the window, chasing away the night.
But the sudden screaming, the incessant fuss,
Makes me want to yell and cry and simply to cuss.
Especially the knowledge that all of my sorrow
Will be repeated the same time, same way, tomorrow.
1 apa kate u all:
Yes, probably so it is
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