Blankies


Blankies are made to be slept with.
Blankies are made to be hugged.
Blankies care when Moms and Dads can't be there
'cause blankies are made to give love.


I sure do miss mine when it's in the wash.
My blankie gets dirty, you see,
'cause everywhere I go, blankie goes, too,
with Mommy and Daddy and me.

Swinging Song


Swing-ing, swing-ing,
I love swing-ing.


Bye oh bye up 
bye oh bye down.
Bye oh bye feet 
way off the ground.


Swing-ing, swing-ing,
I love swing-ing.


Bye oh bye high 
bye oh bye low.
Bye oh bye faster
look at me go.


Swing-ing, swing-ing,
I love swing-ing.


Bye oh bye flying
up to the sky.
Bye oh bye push me
higher than high.


Swing-ing, swing-ing,
I love swing-ing.


Bye oh bye gently
bye oh bye slow. 
Bye oh bye, shhhhh,
to   sleep   I   go.


(whisper)


Swing-ing, swing-ing,
I

 
love

 
swing-ing.

A Rainbow


Today I saw a rainbow
with bright colors in the sky.
I couldn’t see its start or end,
just its middle, way up high.


Mom said that it’s God’s promise
that the world will still go on,
and He always will forgive us
though sometimes we do wrong.


I guess I understand it,
and I’m glad He thinks that way.
I just wish He’d paint His rainbows
up there every single day.


Gee, great-grampa was an artist.
We have his paintings everywhere.
He died a long, long time ago.
Is he God’s helper way up there?


That rainbow sure was pretty
and they mostly look the same,
but great-grampa should tell God 
He should always sign His name.

Little Boy's View on Kissing


I like to kiss my mommy,
sometimes my daddy, too.
My brother kisses everything,
'cause that's what babies do.


I draw the line at kissing
with Mom and Dad, that's cool,
but I run as fast as I can go
when the girls chase me at school!

Makin' Up Stuff


My mommy is a writer.
She makes up stories in her head.
I hear her typing late at night
when I am in my bed.


I like to read the things she writes,
well, the kids' stuff, anyway.
The other stuff's too old for me,
but I can read that, too, some day.


She calls me her inspiration
for the poetry she writes.
I guess that means I'm pretty smart
for someone just my size.


Boy, grownups sure are funny.
I don't understand sometimes.
When I make up my stories, too,
she calls them little white lies.

The Breakfast Child


Early this morning I spilled my milk.
It dripped on the kitchen floor,
and when I tried to wipe it up,
I slipped and I spilled some more.


Then the cereal box tumbled down.
Cheerios went everywhere.
Little O’s in the milk on the floor.
Little O’s all stuck in my hair.


Oh geez, I thought, what a big mess.
Dad and Mommy will be so mad.
Oops! I slipped and I fell in it, too,
and then I REALLY felt bad.


Then Mommy and Daddy came in.
They were ... LAUGHING at my mess.
They said I looked really funny
‘cause I was my Cheerio breakfast.

What Do I Wanna Be?


I wish I was a grownup.
They know what they want to do.
When I get bigger than I am,
will I know what I want too?


I could be a teacher like Mr. Brown,
grading papers all day long.
When little kids learn all he knows,
then next year, they move on.


I'd be fun to be a trash man,
dumping out the garbage cans.
I love to get real dirty
and I hate to wash my hands.


I could be a policeman and wear a badge,
chasing bad guys all day long.
I could make 'em have a Time Out
for stuff they did that's wrong.


I'd really like to be a priest
and tell people about God's lessons,
'cept there's lots of stuff I shouldn't hear
when they have to do confessions.


Or I could be like Daddy,
building houses everywhere,
'cept I wouldn't like to go up high
on a ladder way up there.


When you get to be a grownup,
how do you know what you wanna be?
I guess just for now, I'll be happy,
being a neat little kid like me.

'Maginary Friend


My friend, Sherla, was hard to see
for Mom and Dad, not me.
My 'maginary friend was all I had.
I'm an only child, you see.


Most times Sherla was really good.
We did puzzles, read, and played.
We made our bed and cleaned our room
almost every single day.


But sometimes Sherla spilled my milk.
Sometimes she wrote on walls!
Sometimes she told me not to come
when Mom and Daddy called.


I had to have a talk with her
about being a naughty kid,
'cause I'm the one who got Time Out
for all the things she did.


It's different now.  I go to school.
I have friends everywhere.
Sherla doesn't come here, now,
and I thought she didn't care.


Mom told me Sherla's special
'cause only I could see,
and now she lives with someone else
who needs her more than me.