There was Old Man in a pew,
Whose waistcoat was spotted with blue;
But he tore it in pieces
To give to his nieces,
That cheerful Old Man in a pew.

The was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs,
To her uncle's white pigs,
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.

Thanksgiving is my favorite feast.
The table's set, the napkins creased.
We always have a great big crowd
With uncles, aunts and children loud.

The grownups shoo us to our chairs
With pushing hands and parent stares.
We wait to eat -- but this part's quirky.
Our main dish is never, ever turkey!

Our grandpa will not eat this bird.
On this he gave his solemn word.
Years ago when he was young,
He vowed it not to pass his tongue.

As a boy, he lived beside
The rolling Polish countryside.
The turkeys (this is so unkind)
Would chase and bite his small behind.

So even though it's quite the norm,
He shuns the bird in every form.
I understand how grandpa feels
And how it's changed his life-long meals.

But me, I'd rather take attack.
Once a year, I'd bite them back!

- Denise Rodgers

There was an Old Man with a flute,
A sarpint ran into his boot;
But he played daay and night,
Till the sarpint took flight,
And avoided that man with a flute.

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said, 'It is just as I feared!
Two Owls and a Hen,
Four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!'

There was an Old Man of Apulia,
Whose conduct was very peculiar
He fed twenty sons,
Upon nothing but buns,
That whimsical Man of Apulia.

"Trouble"

Better never trouble Trouble
Until Trouble troubles you;
For you only make your trouble
Double-trouble when you do;
And the trouble-like a bubble-
That you’re troubling about,
May be nothing but a cipher
With its rim rubbed out.

– David Keppel

Bagels and baguettes
Bap or fried bake,
The fruits of the flour
are easy to make

Chollah, chapatti,
Cinnamon bun.
These global delights,
make eating such fun.

Filled with Caribbean sweet meat
like Guava jam,
Scottish smoked salmon;
Or Danish roast ham.

Add a fresh fruit salad,
Some sparkling wine,
A candle, red roses and
you’re ready to dine.

(Joanna Davis)

The day after your birthday,
you look in the mirror to see:
a) you've got a zit from eating all that cake;
b) your love handles have expanded a half inch;
c) you singed your eyebrows blowing out the candles.

The day after your birthday,
a) you require six extra hours of sleep;
b) you can't find your living room under the birthday debris;
c) you wonder how you could possibly have done THAT.

The day after your birthday, it's time to:
a) return some gifts (what IS that, anyway?);
b) call your friends and apologize for yesterday;
c) get out of the country, fast.

The day after your birthday...
we should all look so great
and have it so good!

Happy Birthday!
Appreciate yourself and your life!

(Joanna Fuchs)

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Please keep your flowers,
And your poems too.

My turn signal wasn’t working,
So I asked for help from a friend.
“Stand behind the car,” I said.
“Let’s get this problem to end.”
“When I turn the signal on,
If it’s working, let me know.”
I hit the blinker and then I heard:
“Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes! No!”
(Joanna Fuchs)

"The Little Turtle"

There was a little turtle.
He lived in a box.
He swam in a puddle.
He climbed on the rocks.

He snapped at a mosquito.
He snapped at a flea.
He snapped at a minnow.
And he snapped at me.

He caught the mosquito.
He caught the flea.
He caught the minnow.
But he didn’t catch me.

– Vachel Lindsay

There’s something that I need to ask,
I’ve gotta know if it’s true,
Please tell me, are you an email?
Because I want to be attached to you!