POEM FOR CHILDREN: Jungle Mouth

Jungle Mouth

 

I taught baboons to brush my teeth.

Opossums learned to floss ’em.

My boa knows how to squeeze out paste

crush up the tubes, and toss ’em.

But when my pets see cavities

they hiss, they howl, they shriek

and take away my lollipops

and chocolates for a week!

 

                                                           

First published in Spider.

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CHILDREN’S POEM: Squiggle de Moon

squiggle

                                                                                       

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POEM FOR CHILDREN: Amanda Minty-Twist

Amanda Minty-Twist

 

My breath is fresh

as fresh can be—

Amanda Minty-Twist

kissed

me.

 

I cannot have

a cavity—

Amanda Minty-Twist

kissed

me.

 

I’ll throw my brush

and paste away

because her breath’s

the best breath-spray.

 

And yes, it’s fresh

as fresh can be.

Amanda Minty-Twist

kissed

me.

                                            

My ambition is to make rollistuff.com the exclusive home of my work. If you enjoyed this piece, then, please consider making a donation. Any sum is helpful. More donations = more poems, stories and cartoons for you to enjoy. Donators of $50 or more receive a free signed copy of one of my books (simply make a note of which when you pay or send a quick message to rolliwritesATgmailDOTcom). 

Skippy!

The Skippy Warthog

(Yipee!

Look at me!)

runs

with the sun

above him.

He’s a warty,

snorty,

piggy little thing,

but his mother loves him.

 

What a fine swine,

that Skippy of mine.

Skip, Skippy, skip –

yipee!

My pride and joy!

My hairy-legged boy!

Oh, skip, Skippy, skip –

yipee!

 

Yes!

The Skippy Warthog

(Oh!

Here I go!)

runs

with the sun

above him.

He’s a zippy,

trippy,

skinny little thing,

but his mother loves him.

                                   

From The Conga Lion, an unpublished collection of jungle-themed children’s poetry.

The Little Elephant

elephant

The squeaky little elephant,

all day long, sings his mama’s song –

but it comes out wrong!

Though he blows his nose,

and grows his cheeks,

and practices week after week after week,

nothing comes out

but a sweet sneakersqueak –

eeeeeeeeeek

(a teeny air leak).

“Too bad,” he says. “Too bad.”

Little elephant’s so sad.

 

Sometimes, mama elephant,

walking along, hears the little song

coming out all wrong.

Of course she knows

it’s just a squeak –

but he does practice week after week after week.

So when nothing comes out

but a cupboarddoor creak –

eeeeeeeeeek

(a mini mouse shriek),

his mama says, “That’s LOUD!”

Little elephant’s so proud.

*     *     *

From The Conga Lion, an unpublished collection of jungle-themed children’s poetry.