some children’s poems….

on December 12, 2009 in things that have fallen out of barbie's mind.... with no comments by

Bedtime Story….

Come hear a story children,
and help me make it real.
Take the path that Alice took
and spin the golden wheel.

Come chase that strange white rabbit
down to the Mad Hatter’s place,
then search for the grinning cat
who somehow lost his face.

Let’s go meet Cinderella.
Let’s shake the Prince’s hand.
Let’s take the yellow brick road
and fly to Neverland.

Come meet Christopher Robin.
and nap with Winnie-the-Pooh
Lets fret with Piglet and Eeyore
and romp with Tigger and Roo.

We’ll fight off witches and dragon
and see a ticking crocodile.
Let’s find out where the sidewalk ends,
then sit and rest awhile.

We’ll drink from a chocolate river
and care for Paddington Bear.
Then stop and watch the tortoise
outrun that lazy hare.

Just listen to the stories children,
and listen to them well.
Just sleep and we will go there
to see them for ourselves.

for jeremiah lewis dockstader

Fairy Tale?

Once upon a time,
(or so the story goes)
in a land so far away,
(or right here for all we know)
there was a great occurence,
(or a mediocre one)
something to do with the moon,
(or maybe it was the sun).
This country was in turmoil,
(or it could have been okay)
but I’m sure it was a country,
(at least that’s what they say).
and the hero was this girl,
(or it might have been a guy)
and they lived happily ever after,
no wait…. I’m sure they died.

My Kingdom

Come into my kingdom
of wizards and elves
where we can be anyone
but we can’t be ourselves.

With magical mirrors
and bizarre crystal balls,
with high-towered castles
where you can walk through
the walls.

There’s goblins and gremlins
there’s witches and gnomes.
Where you can be by yourself
and yet not be alone.

We have fairies and pixies
and deep wishing wells,
where you can speak of your secrets
and no one will tell.

There is good and there’s evil
there is right and there’s wrong.
For this is a kingdom
where we all belong.

Come into my kingdom
where things aren’t as they seem.
For this is the fantasy
you see in your dreams

Ode to Shel Silverstein

Who are you when you’re with me?
Are you the you you’d like to be?
I’d like to be with you, you see
and be the me I’d like to be.

And if we two, that’s me and you,
were the “we” we wanted to,
would we be happy instead of blue,
if I were me and you were you?

But if I were you and you were me
oh what chaos that would be.
So you be you and I’ll be me
and all will wish
that they were we.

The World’s Greatest Chef

Little John Christopher
made a mud pie.
It stretched to the sea
and it rose to the sky.
He worked every day
‘till the sun went down,
and soon a crowd gathered from all over town.
He used everything
from dirt to fresh cloves
with a secret ingredient
that nobody knows.
But after a few weeks
that pie went to waste.
That scrumptious mud pie,
that no one would taste.

The Wishing Tree

Two hundred years ago,
in a land so far away,
there was a legend told
to the children one spring day.

The wizard of the town
told the story of the sky.
He said the moon’s a crystal ball
with one all-seeing eye.

He said there is a fence,
with a tree along the side
and the moon had seen a girl,
who sat beneath and cried.

And the moon, he felt compassion,
for the girl beneath the tree.
he cried a lonely tear for her,
which fell into the sea.

The tear looked like a star,
shooting in the nite.
and the young girl gazed upon it,
as it fell far from her sight.

And aloud she made a wish,
and the moon above her smiled,
and he granted her that wish,
for her faith was as a childs’.

And ever since that nite,
the moon has watched that tree,
so if you ever sit beneath,
please make a wish for me.

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