I caught a frog and showed it to my dad;
My dad was quite impressed with what I’d done.
He said, “That’s quite a frog you caught–not bad!
Although I thought you might catch more than one.”
So I went back and caught another frog
And then another, and another more.
I caught a dozen in a little bog.
I caught a dozen in the pond next-door.
I put them safe inside then went back out
To see how many more that I could find.
I don’t know what the screaming was about;
I didn’t think that anyone would mind.
I guess my mother didn’t want to share
Her bathtub with the frogs I put in there.
Archive for the ‘Sonnets’ Category
Catching Frogs
Monday, October 6th, 2008My Best Friend
Monday, October 6th, 2008Whenever I run errands for my mom
And have to walk through places big and wide,
I never worry and I’m always calm,
Because I have my best friend by my side.
He runs ahead to see the path is clear,
Then rushes back and circles once around.
He gives a little bark as he draws near;
It’s such a welcome, happy little sound.
One day I took a short-cut through the trees
And lost my way within the shaded wood.
But then my best friend found the way with ease,
And led me home as quickly as he could.
I never want to lose my way again,
And so I’ll always stay by my best friend.
Too Little, Too Much
Monday, October 6th, 2008All plants need water, just like we need love;
Without it they will shrivel up and die.
Such thoughtlessness is what I’m thinking of
When I observe my little plants so dry.
Without their moisture, greenest leaves turn brown;
A supple branch becomes a brittle twig.
As without love a smile becomes a frown,
And just a little loneliness seems big.
I found a little plant of mine today,
Outside my window, looking dry and sad.
I left it there when I had gone away,
Forgotten, when I might have made it glad.
I wish I had a more consistent touch.
I seem to give too little or too much.
Little Things
Monday, October 6th, 2008My beach goes on forever, left and right;
Its vast expanse is more than I can tell.
And though I like to stretch my farthest sight,
I try to look for little things as well.
A little crab with little legs and claws
Reminds me of myself; I’m little too.
And when he halts I also stop to pause
And wonder where he’s going, what he’ll do.
I wonder if the little crab’s aware
Of just how big the world around him is?
I wonder what my eyes would notice there
If I could for one moment see through his.
Then kneeling low I see, and see it’s grand;
His beach is made of tiny grains of sand.
Friends Forever
Monday, October 6th, 2008I always want to be as young as spring
As young as flowers blooming in the grass
And smell the sweet perfume such blossoms bring
And never let such simple beauty pass
I always want my best friend at my side
As young as I, forever and a day
One bright spring day to wander far and wide
Becomes forever,never slips away
I always want the sky to be as blue
As on the day my friend and I first met
As ancient trees remember to renew
Their flowers in the spring, I won’t forget
How we were young as spring eternally
My friend, your friend I always want to be
Blind Man’s Buff
Monday, October 6th, 2008
Blind Man's Buff
I know he’s here I heard him laugh out loud
Which way, I wonder? Left? Or maybe right?
I know he’s here; he’s here within this crowd
I wish this blindfold wasn’t quite so tight
If I put out my hand, will he be there?
If I could only get a tiny peek
He’s here. I know he’s here. He’s here somewhere
He’s in the open, still I have to seek
Who made this game? It isn’t very fun
They say just touch whoever you can find
But I say no, I’m only after one
I’ve locked it down; you’ll never change my mind
Then to my mind a thought comes suddenly:
When it’s his turn, he’ll only seek for me!
Tears and Sadness
Monday, October 6th, 2008
Tears and Sadness
Sometimes I hide my tears when I am sad
My sadness and my tears belong to me
It isn’t that I think such things are bad
I just prefer to keep them privately
I walk away until I’m by myself
My tears and sadness wait for me, alone
Then, like a book, I take them from their shelf
And all the words I read are all my own
Each page is stained by tears I’ve cried before
And every edge is worn by sadness too
My book of tears and sadness serves me more
Than all the cups of comfort ever do
And when I’ve set my tears and sadness free
I’m glad to know you’ll still be there for me
My Big Umbrella
Monday, October 6th, 2008
My Big Umbrella
I have an old umbrella, big and black;
I carry it in storms of rain or snow.
It keeps me dry in front and dry in back,
And so I always take it when I go.
When all the trees have dropped their leaves at last
And offer no protection from the storm.
When snow is falling, heavy, wet and fast,
My big umbrella keeps me dry and warm.
And if I’m ever walking down your street
When winter snow is keeping you inside.
Or if you fear the cold and driving sleet,
Don’t let it get you down or make you hide.
Just call my name, then come and walk along
Beneath my big umbrella, broad and strong.
Umbrella
Goldfish
Monday, October 6th, 2008
Goldfish
I love my little goldfish, he’s my friend;
He swims a hundred miles every day.
His swimming never seems to have an end;
Perhaps he thinks he’s swimming far away.
Around and ’round my little goldfish goes
And I can see him when he’s far or near.
I wonder if my little goldfish knows
That he’s been swimming ’round for half a year.
His ocean is the water in his bowl.
To me it seems a cozy little place.
A rock inside makes quite a lovely shoal.
And polished glass surrounds his private space.
But sometimes when he stops to look at me,
I wonder if he’s longing for the sea.
School Work
Monday, October 6th, 2008
School Work
It’s hard to think of all my work at school
When all I want to do is go and play.
But teacher has one simple little rule:
“Today’s work must be done, and done today!”
So back to adding numbers goes my hand,
My mind, however, wanders for a bit.
I think of all the games my friends have planned.
I wonder how much longer I can sit.
I try to focus like I know I should
On math or reading . . . what was it again?
If I could finish quickly then I would.
Is three from twelve the same as two from ten?
It’s hard to tell my brain to get it done
Because my feet keep telling me to run!