Itsy Bitsy Spider

I wrote this for a friend who had a spider infestation at her work. This is the PG version....


Sing to the itsy bitsy spider song

The Itsy Bitsy Spider
Came up the basement stair
Made itself a web
Under Lindsay's Chair

Out came it's eggs
And baby spiders hatched
And the little baby spiders
Climbed into Lindsay's lap...

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The Toddler Series X

I love this poem, and this little boy is just such a sweet little guy. His Mom is terrific too!!

Will Will?

Sweet, darling Will will be two today.
Our brave little boy is well on his way.
To see what adventures life has in store,
Beyond the safe borders of our front door.

Will Will run the trains and fix all that matters?
Will Will be a fireman and climb the tall ladders?
Will Will be a pilot and fly the blue skies?
Will Will be a baker and make blueberry pies?

Whatever Will does, Mom and Dad will be proud
We’ll say it in quiet and we’ll SHOUT IT OUT LOUD.
Will will always be cherished and always be loved.
Will was truly a gift from the Lord up above.

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Ode To Coffee

During my writing career I have written many odes to important things in my life. Somehow I have missed coffee. The one thing no matter how rotten or good or busy or slow my life, is always there to pick me up. So.....

Ode to Coffee

I used to be tired,
Now I am wired.
From a wonderful bean
That is full of caffeine.

I just love the flavour.
It's something to savour.
I should come with a warning,
If I don't get it each morning.

A slave to my master,
To its dark shiny luster.
It's best taken black,
Without sugar and crap.

So long live the java,
Served hotter than lava.
My perfect day starter,
Making life a little less harder.

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The Toddler Series IX

Another one of my favorite toddler poems

The Gift of Owen

For two years we’ve had the greatest gift them of all,
One that is now close to a good three feet tall,
A gift that’s brought joy and life to this home,
That gift is Owen and this is his poem.

Happy Birthday dear son, our sweet little boy,
Today you’ll get lots of clothes, books and toys,
And as we watch you enjoy with a smile and a laugh,
We’re grateful, we were chosen to be guides on your path.

For as joyous and wonderful as life’s meant to be,
You’ll need Mom and Dad to fix a scraped knee,
Or help you when things may not be going your way,
If only to listen or help you to pray.

But for now, enjoy all your balls, cars and fish,
And play all day long, with your dogs if you wish,
Knowing Mommy and Daddy are always near by,
Watching and loving our charming young guy.


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The Toddler Series VIII

The little girl that is turning two here is the prettiest little thing this side of heaven. She was born with a medical condition but you would never know she has ever seen a day of illness. In every picture her Mom posts she is shining and smiling with a light as bright as the sun.

Amazing Grace

My little Grace has just turned two,
You truly are my dream come true.
Along with sisters Hope and Faith,
You three, keep my heart in place.

Your little voice, as sweet as honey,
Your disposition, cute and sunny.
Your brown eyes filled with love and trust,
Your curls made up of angel dust.

There’s been some tough times these two years.
We’ve all shed our share of tears.
All those challenges you overcame,
You’re grace in style and Grace in name.

So grab your blanky, we’ll read a book,
And tell you how our hearts you took,
From the first day that we saw your face,
Your family loves you, amazing Grace.

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Lazy Limerick

After trying to write about my dog, my dinner and dare I say it, American Idol I realized that my muse must be on holiday today. So forgive me for publishing a limerick.

Lazy Limerick

This poet is tired and sleepy,
She is weary and a little bit weepy.
So this poem’s not her best,
Just re-read the rest,
Or read into this one more deeply.


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Haiku

A Haiku is a japenese poem with 17 syllables. Normally 5-7-5. I gave it a whirl with my favorite subject.

Haiku

Kaitlin sleeps soundly
Pretty eyelashes flutter
With sweet, happy dreams

Kaitlin wakes smiling.
Dusting off the night magic
Clearing it for day

Kaitlin trusts deeply
Knowing true maternal love
Basking in the warmth

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The Toddler Series VII

This is a poem I wrote for the son of a good friend and a talented photographer. Check out her site at http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5916499

Ode To Andrew

There’s a special boy we named Andrew,
Whom we love so through and through.
And on his big and special day,
Mom and Dad would like to say.

On this day two years ago,
You were born amid a glow -
Of joy and happiness and mostly love,
Our precious gift from God above.

And as you’ve grown these last two years,
We’ve laughed with you and dried some tears.
We watched you play with trains and cars,
Our loving hearts were never far.

Those ‘nanas and Che-o’s have helped you grow
Into the handsome boy we know.
And one more plus my little man,
Is that you are an Eagles Fan!

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Crabby Abbie

An inspiration from a little girl next door. Though no longer so little, she is still an inspiration!

Crabby Abbie's Breakfast

Crabby Abbie woke up one day,
Sat down to breakfast and to her dismay,
No longer liked her curds and whey,
are much too sticky and taste like hay.

She grabbed her pup Otis and off they went,
Her plan was to use her puppy’s keen scent,
To sniff out good food for her breakfast event,
Even if she must speak to every lady and gent.

Otis sniffed out an old man named Jake,
Who was cooking something down by the lake.
It was a horrible smell, for goodness sake,
It was barbequed, hickory, water snake.

After a while they saw a house near a brook,
And singing inside was Gerda the cook,
Reading a recipe from her cookbook,
And out of her cupboard some bug-guts she took.

At one more stop along the path,
They saw George the Dragon fresh from his bath.
He was eating a sandwich and doing some math.
The sandwich was made from scraps from the trash.

Abbie said “Otis, this isn’t good,”
It seems that nobody has good tasting food.
Next meal we see might be one of blood pud’,
So zip up your sweater, I’ll put up my hood.

So back they went to their own breakfast table,
Grateful that their food required no label,
Where they ate curds and whey ‘till they were no longer able,
And that is the end of this little fable!

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Doing It Gracefully

Get your dirty minds out of the gutter. I am talking about growing old. I wrote this poem after being called M'am at the grocery store. I found it quite shocking.

Doing it Gracefully

When Did I go from Miss to M’am?
What is this cramping in my hands?
Just yesterday, I was in college classes
Now just to read, I wear old-dame glasses.

Cosmo was this hip girl’s bible,
Now Good Housekeeping sits on my table.
I think of the mini-skirts I had,
Now if the jeans zip up I’m very glad.

I used to party dusk to dawn,
Now at nine p.m. I yawn.
We would drink all night, paint the town,
Now hubby drinks beer and “it” stays down.

It’s sad to approach our middle age,
Though I suppose it’s just another stage,
And growing old is just in your head,
And really, it beats being dead.

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The Toddler Series VI

The little girl this poem is written about is truly treated like a princess by her family. If Texas had a royal family, I am sure they would be a part of it.

The Princess from Texas

Once upon a time in a land known as Texas,
A princess sat down to a good hearty breakfast,
She thought and she wondered as she chewed on her food,
What things will be different now that I’m two?

Will I still love my babies, I can’t be too old?
Will I still love to sing, entertaining the crowds?
I guess to find out if that‘s still really in me,
I can just take a look at my big sis, McKynlee.

I know, I will still love my Daddy and Mommy
I know, that I’ll still think that Elmo is funny
I guess being two, though grown up, is okay
In fact, I think, it will be one special day.

So Sweet Princess Mady, put on your crown
And know that today, you’re the toast of the town
The Queen and the King couldn’t be any prouder,
Or have anymore love for their beautiful daughter.

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The Toddler Series V

I wrote this poem today for a friend. Her little girl is one of a kind and I hope I captured her well.

Sonyea Dolittle

Who is that darling little dish?
Over there with that big fish?
That’s Sonyea, who is two you know,
And the fishy guy’s of course, Nemo.

Our little Miss Dolittle has no fear,
Of snakes or lions or even bears!
She adores all animals big and small,
Though it’s Vicky she loves most of all.

A great big fan of Tinkerbell,
She loves that fairy and thinks she’s swell.
She often sits to read that tale,
Though she tries to speak it all in “whale”

A quirky girl, but a real cutie
Shining with a sunny beauty,
That warms the hearts of all she meets,
Her sassy smile a real treat.

Happy Birthday little girl,
You’ve turned our lives into a whirl,
But we’re so happy you are here,
We love you more each passing year.

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A Childhood Memory

A nice piece. Not a poem per say but poetic none the less. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Warm and Snug

Snug as a bug in a rug. That describes my first memory. I was three years old and had crawled into my dolly's cradle and pulled the kitchen sink rug over top of me. I remember thinking that it would be fun to be a dolly and as I didn't have a blanket, the rug would have to do. I also remember thinking that I might get in trouble for moving the rug but I was willing to take the risk for the sake of my pretend game.

Although I have no memory of what time of day it was, it had to have been in the evening and after dinner because my Dad was at home and my Mom wasn't cooking. They must have been doing something boring in the other room because I had struck out on my own.

I lay in the cradle for some time pretending to be a dolly but the attention span of a three year old is short and I was ready to get out. But I was stuck! I remember thinking, "should I yell for help?" I was still a bit worried about having moved the kitchen mat. I ended up crying to myself, not knowing what to do.

Well of course their little girl's cries brought my Mom and Dad looking for me. I remember them starting to laugh, I remember my Mom lifting the rug and my Dad lifting me out. I was still a bit scared and worried but they were laughing and laughing and laughing. I remember feeling warm and secure, basking in their joy and love. They must have laughed for twenty minutes. I remember catching that laughter and laughing myself. Even at three, happy in my Daddy's arms, I knew this was a special moment.

This is not only my first memory but one of my favorites. There have been many times in my life when I have felt unloved and insecure. My life has certainly been touched by death, divorce and depression. This one little memory sits there in my head like a cup of hot cocoa. I take a sip of the wonderfully sweet and warm memory and I immediately feeler warmer and loved once again. A couple of years ago I mentioned my memory to my Mom. She remembered it very well and added one thing I didn't remember. They took a picture before they took me out of the cradle. My dad, who also remembered that night quite fondly, had it tucked away in an old album, and has since given it to me. Now I have a real picture to go with my mind's picture. It warms my soul to say they are.

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At Seventeen

Another Poem for my Daughter, Kaitlin. She sure is an inspiration. I think I can publish a book just with poems for Kaitlin.

Kaitlin is turning Seventeen months old

At Seventeen

At seventeen months, I know I am your world.
At seventeen years, I pray I am a part.

At seventeen months, I always know where you are.
At seventeen years, I pray that you call.

At seventeen months, you cry over booboos.
At seventeen years, you will cry over boys.

At seventeen months, a kiss will make it better.
At seventeen years, I pray a hug will help.

At seventeen months, I love to hear you talk.
At seventeen years, I pray I remember to listen.

At seventeen months, your world is a full of wonder.
At seventeen years, I pray our world is wonderful.

At seventeen months, you are just starting childhood.
At seventeen years, you are just leaving it behind.

At seventeen months, I love you with all my heart.
At seventeen years, I will love you with all my heart.

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The Toddler Series IV

I wrote this for a pretty little girl who loves "Twinkle Little Star." I think it works perfectly.

Twinkle Twinkle Taylor

Twinkle Twinkle, Taylor Honey
Come tell Mommy, what’s so funny?
Are you happy ‘cause you’re turning two?
Or ‘cause you know you’re loved so true?

How I wonder what you’ll be,
A dancer, a doctor, a Mom like me?
Whatever road you choose to ride,
Mom and Dad will beam with pride.

A star above, you shine so bright,
The way you treat your “babies” right.
The way you sit and play for hours,
Building all your little towers.

My little diamond in the night
Your pretty face, my favorite sight
Up from your nap all fresh and new,
Your sweet voice asking “Mommy are you?”

So Twinkle, Twinkle Taylor Dear,
I love you more each passing year.
You’re all I wanted you to be.
You’ll always be a part of me.

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OOEY GOOEY YELLOW OOZE

This is a fun little poem that was meant to be a children's story. The artwork is by a talented woman named Jill Brogdon. Someday we will get it together and get this book published!

Ooey Gooey Yellow Ooze

A beautiful thing appeared one day,
Early in the Month of May.
It was gorgeous in a stunning way,
A strikingly colorful array.

The people of a little town,
Were captivated by the land's new crown.
They gathered all their tools round,
And tried to get this jewel down.

They struck it with their mighty poles,
And created four gigantic holes.
Four colors came out in steamy rolls,
The towns' folk got scared and ran for their souls!













Ooey Gooey Yellow Ooze
Coming down the road in two's
C'mon and help us spread the news!
Ooey Gooey Yellow Ooze.












Blecky, Yucky Purple Slime
Coming down like serpentine.
Oops it just got that mime!
Blecky Yucky Purple Slime.

Icky, Sicky Big Green Goop,

Coming down with Hoola Hoops.

Somebody warn those girl guide troops!

Icky Sicky Big Green Goop.

Dusty Musty Gross Brown Bunk,

Pouring out of old car trunks.

We have to stop it or we're sunk.

Dusty Musty Gross Brown Bunk

Worried Furried Mr Mayor

Said, this town needs help, someone to care

To tame this colorful nightmare!

Poor worried furried Mr. Mayor.

Happy Chappy Painter Paul

Heard the sad and tainted call.

My paints and I can help them all!

Onward Happy Painter Paul.

First he got the Yellow Ooze

By lighting a special color fuse.

It exploded all the sallow hues.

Goodbye Gooey Yellow Ooze.

Then he hit the purple slime,

Got it with some purple mines.

Grabbed the slime and saved that mime!

See ya later purple slime.

Now on to the Big Green Goop,

He cornered it in a chicken coop,

Then turned it into Broccoli soup.

Now it's yummy big green goop!

Last came musty gross Brown Bunk.

He simply told it how much it stunk.

It then backed off, an embarrassed hunk.

No more worries about Gross Brown Bunk.

Now finished, Paul turned around,

He then stepped forward and made this sound,

"You silly people of this town,

Never knock another Rainbow down!"

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The Toddler Series III

I love this poem. Everytime I read it, it makes me smile. The little boy it is written about has the most impish grin I have ever seen.

Gun Totin’ Carter

Sit around children, and I’ll tell you a tale,
About the toughest and roughest toddler male.
The Hughes’ house is safe from crooks, and the like
Because of the bravery of this little tyke.

You can look far and wide and not find any kid smarter,
Than, juice sippin’ gun totin’ two year old Carter.
He’s quick with a smile and tries not to be rude,
But it’s hard for this little, cartoon watching dude.

As tough as he is, he still loves his mommy,
And he still loves to play with his sister’s cute puppy.
And unlike a cowboy who is beaten and weathered,
This little boy has been nothing but treasured

He might have fun with his guns, and be a true little boy,
But his hugs and sweet kisses still fill all with joy.
So my tough darling boy, on the day that you’re two,
I want you to know that your family loves you!

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The Todder Series II

I have been writing poems for two year olds for a few weeks now. My little one turned two a couple of weeks ago and I just haven't had a chance to write one for her. I finally did, and I can't get to the end of it without crying.

Charming Kaitlin

My adorable baby has come upon two,
As warm and as sparkly as a new morning dew.
Each day enhances her sweet grace and charm,
A gift God has granted and placed in my arms.

The voice of an angel and the soul of a saint,
A fresh breath of air, a sweet summer rain.
I can’t tell you the joy of being her mother.
I can not believe how much I could love her.

With each little gesture, I find her more charming,
And that smile, that smile – could it be more disarming?
She’s a girl with few words, but says volumes with eyes,
Filled up with gratitude, this mom often cries.

I truly don’t know where the two years have gone,
It seems only yesterday she was just turning one.
Lord please mind I cherish each day we’re together,
And allow me to hug her and kiss her forever.

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Ring Ring.......Morning Calling

This morning I had a rough time getting out of bed. It was rainy and miserable and I was reminded of this poem I wrote after a similar morning. I hope you enjoy - I know you can relate.

Alarm Clock

A buzz, a beep, a ringing bell,
That damn loud noise that comes from hell.
It wakes me from a restful slumber
With evil glowing flashing numbers.

What did I do to earn this fate?
Besides stay up an hour late.
My fuzzy brain would like to know
From buried deep in my pillow.

Why can't I wake up to something sweet,
,A gentle breeze? A birdie's tweet?
A soft massage or lover's touch?
Oh no, that's asking way too much.

I contemplate my destiny
And how I wasted yesterday
And now must pay the sinner's dues,

......Ugh, this poem is lame, I'll just hit snooze!

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A Late Summer Afternooon at Gage Park

This one is not technically a poem, but it has a nice rhythm to it. This is one of my favourite pieces. The warm weather we've had the past couple of days got me thinking about summer and I though I would share this nice summer memory.

A Late Summer Afternoon at Gage Park

We parked a long ways from the playground. Kaitlin had fallen asleep and I thought the walk in the stroller would do us both some good. The path was shaded with large cedars and spruce trees, the breeze was sweet.

I found a bench under an oak, unbuckled Kaitlin and settled her on my lap. I watched the children playing in the splash fountain. I watched their parents watching them. I saw a young couple sharing a cigarette and being mildly neglectful of their preschool kids. I saw a mother and grandmother arguing in a language I didn't know, while two little boys played happily beside them. I've traded hellos with them over the summer. The boys don't seem to mind the constant bickering and I often wonder if they are actually comforted by it. I saw an older couple of a young toddler who were both overprotective and overindulgent, afraid that the miracle given to them could be snatched away in a moment. I saw with a wary eye the middle-aged man who may have just been taking a rest from cycling, but who was sitting too close and staring too long at a little girl he had no business looking at. I was grateful the park was so full of families.

Kaitlin soon awoke, the smile on her face priceless when she realized she was at the park, and at the good park. She sat on my lap and watched for a while too. After a few minutes she asked to get down, and I took her sundress off and she danced and pranced around showing off her pink, ruffled one piece. I quickly looked around and was grateful the middle-aged man had left. Then my one and a half year old daughter, who is the bravest woman I have ever met, ran straight into the biggest fountain sprinkler, turning to make sure I saw, then turning to make sure everyone saw. I couldn't resist joining her. I am also an older, overindulgent, overprotective parent. We laughed, we got soaked, and we knocked over other kids. We played and splashed until the sun started to go behind the trees and Kaitlin started shivering.

It was actually her idea to move on. We sat back down on the bench and I took off her wet bathing suit and put her sundress back on. I was chilly in my wet clothes but not bothered by them. After a brief swing ride we started back to the car. There was no need for the stroller on the way back. Kaitlin happily walked beside me holding my hand, talking to me in a language that I vaguely remember but no longer understand. Babbling baby wisdom that I wished she could share.

After we settled in the car, I saw my camera sitting in my bag. I hadn't taken any pictures or video of this perfect afternoon. But then I realized it doesn't matter. The movie in my mind is far clearer and far more colourful than anything a camera could capture. I think Kaitlin will remember too.

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For the Love of Pizza

A tad racy for a poem, but fun. I actually wrote this for a contest on Helium, the subject of course, was Pizza. Where the romance novel theme came from is a mystery to me. Sometimes poems have a life of their own (and it's more exciting than mine )

For The Love of Pizza

Your scent announces you before my doorbell even rings.
I grin with anticipation knowing soon you will be here with me again.

I pay your chauffeur and then carry you over the threshold and seat you in my parlour.
A comfortable routine as this is a dance we have done many times.

I notice you still wear your wrap.
My gentle and experienced fingers work quickly to expose all your tender goodness.

My breath is taken away by just how hot you are.
I wait a moment to allow both of us to cool down.

I unhurriedly take one of your fingers and bring it close to my lips,
Remembering your sauciness at our last encounter and daring to hope to sample it again.

Finally I bring you into my mouth and get my first taste of you this evening,
My hunger for you is exquisite and a moan escapes me.

But something isn't right. You are not the same.
I am suspicious, and before I continue, I take a good long look at you.

There is a flaw in your beauty.
They forgot the onions again!

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The Toddler Series

I have written some poems for a whole slew of two year olds. These are the children of some of my best friends although I have only ever met one in person. They are my online friends, the women I turn to in joy and despair and my life is richer for knowing them.

This first poem is for a beautiful little girl named Sophie. A doll for sure, but a handful I think too!

Mischevious Sophie

As Sophie winds up her second year,
“Don’t touch that sweetie, come over here”
She fills our lives with so much joy
“Please honey, we don’t chew our toys”

A real beauty, she couldn’t be cuter.
“Sophie! What happened to mommy’s computer!”
Such a sweet disposition, she is seldom a grouch.
“Darling, don’t climb on the back of the couch!”

Her pretty voice lifted up in song.
“No jumping on Flynn, you know that’s wrong!”
We’re filled with pride that she knows her letters
“Out of my makeup, you know better”

All jesting aside, we love our girl,
She changed our life, she changed our world.
So Sophie-bug on birthday TWO
We are thrilled that we have you.

“Oops, I have to go and end this verse
Sophie just dumped out all my purse”

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I Never Knew

Becoming a parent is life-changing in so many ways. I can honestly say I had no idea the overwhelming emotion and feeling you have wrapped up in that squirming, crying little bundle. A friend describes it as walking around with your heart in that little person's body. She gets it.....

I wrote this poem to try to express these feelings. In some ways it sums it up well, in others it is not even close.

I Never Knew

I never knew wonder until I first saw your face
I never knew warmth until your first sweet embrace

I never knew happiness until your first smiles
I never knew worry and pacing for miles

I never knew joy until I first heard you laugh
I never knew "soaked" until that one silly bath

I never knew how cute baby drool could be
I never knew beauty in three little teeth

I never knew music until your first baby babble
I never knew grace, yet on legs so unstable

I never knew skin as soft as goose down
I never knew "family" was a verb not a noun

I never knew my life would be such a whirl
I never knew love 'till I knew baby girl

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A Poem A Day Keeps the Therapist Away

Hi All,

The purpose of this blog, if blogs do indeed require a purpose, is to showcase both my poetry and terrific poems by other writers.

So without further ado.....on with the show

I wrote this one for a friend of a friend's baby shower. The gift was a tree sapling in a pot, the poem required relating the tree theme with the baby theme

The Simple Tree

A tree is so simple a thing.
All it requires to provide us with life giving oxygen,
Is a little sunshine, some water and a bit of caretaking.

A child also seems such a simple thing.
All he requires to provide us with life affirming joy
Is a little patience, some tenderness and a bit of love.

So Bless the tree and Bless the child.
The future depends on how we care for them both.

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