Miles of Smiles Page 3

  used a can of hair spray to secure it that way,

  and forgot all about it for years.

  Well, that did the trick; it got hard like a brick.

  She could not hold her head up with ease.

  Nor was she aware that the spray in her hair

  would be quite so attractive to bees.

  They thought it was nectar and came to inspect her.

  And soon they were building a hive.

  Their numbers increased and grew to at least

  three hundred and seventy-five.

  They were busy in there, deep inside of her hair.

  It must have felt terribly funny.

  But bees never rest, as you’ve probably guessed,

  and soon she was dripping with honey.

  All sticky and sweet she looked tempting to eat

  and was gobbled right up by a bear.

  She wouldn’t be dead if she’d shampooed her head.

  Good-bye Miss Veronica Blair.

  Linda J. Knaus

  Jack Was Nimble

  Jack was nimble.

  Jack was quick.

  Jack jumped over

  the candlestick.

  Jack kept jumping

  much too close.

  Now his pants

  smell like burnt toast.

  Bruce Lansky

  Professor Von Shtoot’s Wacky Inventions

  Here’s a list that proudly mentions

  all my wonderful inventions:

  older sister shut-her-upper,

  all-nutritious chocolate supper,

  teacher homework-memory-loss,

  potion making you the boss,

  baseball bat that never misses,

  scent that wards off juicy kisses,

  past-your-bedtime length extender,

  getting into trouble ender,

  vanish cream to use on braggers,

  magic dust, defusing naggers,

  yucky, mucky meat loaf buster,

  out-the-window liver thruster,

  scary, hairy bug inflictor,

  unexpected-quiz predictor,

  push-a-button bully zapper,

  snooping-brother finger trapper,

  supersonic zit remover,

  mathematics grade improver,

  automatic snitch detector,

  whiny-little-wimp ejector.

  Plus, I’ve hundreds more to test.

  I wonder which you’ll like the best?

  Helen Ksypka

  My Doggy Ate My Homework

  “My doggy ate my homework.

  He chewed it up,” I said.

  But when I offered my excuse

  My teacher shook her head.

  I saw this wasn’t going well.

  I didn’t want to fail.

  Before she had a chance to talk,

  I added to the tale:

  “Before he ate, he took my work

  And tossed it in a pot.

  He simmered it with succotash

  Till it was piping hot.

  “He scrambled up my science notes

  With eggs and bacon strips,

  Along with sautéed spelling words

  And baked potato chips.

  “He then took my arithmetic

  And had it gently fried.

  He broiled both my book reports

  With pickles on the side.

  “He wore a doggy apron

  As he cooked a notebook stew.

  He barked when I objected.

  There was nothing I could do.”

  “Did he wear a doggy chef hat?”

  My teacher gave a scowl.

  “He did,” I said. “And taking it

  Would only make him growl.”

  My teacher frowned, but then I said

  As quickly as I could,

  “He covered it with ketchup,

  And he said it tasted good.”

  “A talking dog who likes to cook?”

  My teacher had a fit.

  She sent me to the office,

  And that is where I sit.

  I guess I made a big mistake

  In telling her all that.

  ’Cause I don’t have a doggy.

  It was eaten by my cat.

  Dave Crawley

  Yankee Doodle’s Turtle Ride

  Yankee Doodle went to town

  riding on a turtle.

  His belly jiggled all around,

  so now he wears a girdle.

  Bruce Lansky

  Yankee Doodle on a Chicken

  Yankee Doodle went to town

  riding on a chicken.

  He went into a restaurant

  and came out finger lickin’.

  Bruce Lansky

  One-Shoe Willy

  I stepped in some gum, and I felt really dumb

  when my tennis shoe stuck to the street.

  I pulled and I tugged, then I hopelessly shrugged

  while my face turned as red as a beet.

  So I took off my shoe, for what else could I do,

  and limped home looking quite pale and ashen.

  But lo and behold, the next day I was told

  that I’d started a popular fashion.

  Linda J. Knaus

  Star Light, Star Bright

  Star light, star bright,

  first star I see tonight,

  I’m going to try with all my might

  to keep my jammies dry all night.

  Bruce Lansky

  Dinosaur Names

  If the dinosaurs had such peanut-sized brains,

  why were they given such difficult names?

  Why not Beak Mouth or Bonehead or Horny or Chops,

  instead of a mouthful like Triceratops?

  And as sure as the winged Archaeopteryx flew,

  a much simpler name like Fly Guy would do.

  If dinosaurs knew that their names were so tough,

  they’d turn in their graves and cause earthquakes and stuff!

  Why not Spiny or Spike for our friend Stegosaurus?

  And Stretch seems to work for the long Brontosaurus.

  Their names should be simple and bold and distinct—

  I wish that long dinosaur names were extinct!

  Holly Davis

  My Family of Dinosaurs

  My sister, finkasaurus,

  is a tattletaling shrew.

  My brother, slobasaurus,

  doesn’t quite know how to chew.

  My mother, rushasaurus,

  finds it hard to be on time.

  My father, cheapasaurus,

  never spends an extra dime.

  Our doggy, barkasaurus,

  keeps the neighbors up at night.

  Our kitty, scratchasaurus,

  gouges everything in sight.

  And then there’s angelsaurus—

  who, you might have guessed, is me—

  the only one who’s perfect in this crazy family.

  Helen Ksypka

  My New Pet

  I asked my father for a pet.

  He said, “I’ll take you shopping.”

  My father took me to a store

  where animals were hopping.

  He asked me, “Which one would you like?”

  So I picked out a puppy,

  a parakeet, a rabbit,

  plus a gerbil and a guppy.

  I also picked a monkey

  and a yellow Siamese cat,

  a turtle, snake, and lizard,

  plus a very big white rat.

  My dad said, “If you want a pet,

  then you will have to feed it.”

  Instead, I picked a storybook.

  I cannot wait to read it.

  Bruce Lansky

  Kangaroos

  If a person has four babies

  you would call them all quadruplets.

  If a kangaroo does likewise

  should you call them kangaruplets?

  And I’ve got another question

  that could use il
luminating:

  if a kangaroo is thinking,

  is it kangaruminating?

  If you baked a kangaroo a pie

  and shaped it like a boomerang,

  would it be best with whipping cream

  or maybe kangaroo meringue?

  I’ve got so many questions,

  I just don’t know what to do.

  I guess perhaps I’ll have to go

  and ask a kangaroo.

  Kenn Nesbitt

  Mary’s Smart Lamb

  Mary had a little lamb,

  but it was not a fool.

  As Mary walked, he stopped a car

  and hitched a ride to school.

  Ted Scheu

  Old Hogan’s Goat

  Old Hogan’s goat was feeling fine.

  It ate six shirts right off the line.

  Old Hogan grabbed him by the back

  and tied him to the railroad track.

  Now as the train came into sight,

  the goat grew pale and green with fright.

  It heaved a sigh as if in pain,

  coughed up those shirts and flagged the train.

  Anonymous

  Hey, Ma, Something’s Under My Bed

  I hear it at night

  when I turn out the light.

  It’s that creature who’s under my bed.

  He won’t go away.

  He’s determined to stay.

  But I wish he would beat it, instead.

  I told him to go,

  but he shook his head no.

  He was worse than an unwelcome guest.

  I gave him a nudge,

  but he still wouldn’t budge.

  It was hard to get rid of the pest.

  So I fired one hundred

  round cannon balls plundered

  from pirate ships sailing the seas.

  But he caught them barehanded

  and quickly grandstanded

  by juggling them nice as you please.

  That creature was slick.

  He was clever and quick.

  This called for a drastic maneuver.

  So I lifted my spread

  and charged under the bed

  with the roar of my mother’s new Hoover.

  But he snorted his nose

  and sucked in the long hose,

  the canister, cord, and the plug,

  and vacuumed in dust

  till I thought he would bust

  then he blew it all over the rug.

  Now this made me sore,

  so I cried, “This is war!”

  and sent in a contingent of fleas,

  an army of ants

  dressed in camouflage pants

  followed closely by big killer bees.

  But he welcomed them in

  with a sly, crafty grin,

  and he ate them with crackers and cheese.

  I screamed, “That’s enough!”

  It was time to get tough.

  “You asked for it, Creature,” I said,

  as I picked up and threw,

  with an aim sure and true,

  my gym sneaker under the bed.

  With each whiff of the sneaker

  the creature grew weaker.

  He staggered out gasping for air.

  He coughed and he sneezed

  and collapsed with a wheeze

  and accused me of not playing fair.

  Then holding his nose

  with his twelve hairy toes,

  the creature curled into a ball,

  and rolled ’cross the floor

  smashing right through the door.

  I was rid of him once and for all.

  The very next night

  when I turned out the light

  and was ready to lay down my head,

  I heard my kid brother

  cry out to my mother,

  “Hey, Ma, something’s under my bed.”

  Joan Horton

  The Teachers’ Show*

  I have an important announcement.

  I want everybody to know:

  on Monday all classes are canceled.

  The teachers will put on a show.

   [Teacher’s name]  will be juggling meatballs.

   [Teacher’s name]  will dance with a bear.

   [Teacher’s name]  and  [Teacher’s name]  will yodel.

   [Teacher’s name]  will tear out  [his or her]  hair.

   [Teacher’s name]  is quite entertaining.

   [his or her]  does something you’ve never seen.

  If you want a bad case of measles,

   [He’ll or She’ll]  paint them on red, white, and green.

   [Principal’s name]  is also performing.

   [He’s or She’s]  come up with something quite new.

   [He’s or She’s]  doing  [his or her]  act in the kitchen.

   [He’s or She’s]  dumping the cook in the stew.

  Your parents are certainly welcome,

  but make sure to tell them the rule.

  If any of them arrive tardy,

  they’ll have to be kept after school.

  I know that our show is exciting.

  I wish that you all could be here.

  But school will be closed for vacation.

  I can’t wait to see you next year.

  Bruce Lansky

  * * *

  * Fill in the blanks with the names of teachers in your school.

  Empty Headed

  I’ve seen the hair of a bald-headed man

  and the socks on a barefooted boy.

  I’ve seen the light in a very dark room

  and a sad woman jumping for joy.

  I met a blind man who claimed he could see

  and a very tall midget in shorts.

  There’s a sick man in Jersey in excellent health,

  according to latest reports.

  I took a hot bath in water so cold

  it actually turned my lips blue.

  I went to a farm where the cows lay the eggs

  and the chickens give milk and say, “Moo.”

  I’ve seen a dead man just barely alive.

  I once combed my hair with a brush.

  I walked to the store in a taxi one night

  to avoid the midafternoon rush.

  I sat way up front in the back of the room.

  I bought ham that was labeled “all beef.”

  They x-rayed my head and found nothing at all,

  which I must say is quite a relief.

  Linda J. Knaus

  My Thumbies

  I have two little thumbies.

  They’re with me day and night.

  My favorite thumb is on my left.

  The other’s on my right.

  My thumbies always comfort me

  when I am feeling sad.

  They help me to protect myself

  when I am feeling mad.

  My thumbies help me fall asleep

  when I am feeling tired.

  I do not know how better friends

  could ever be desired.

  My mother says it’s time to quit—

  that sucking thumbs is bad.

  And every time I suck my thumb,

  my mom gets very mad.

  “You’ve got to quit. Don’t suck your thumbs—

  your left one or your right.

  It’s pushing all your front teeth out.

  It’s ruining your bite.

  “It might take years to get straight teeth,

  with braces on your mouth.

  It isn’t fun. Believe me, son.

  So keep your thumbs down south.”

  I’m forty-nine. It’s time to quit—

  of all the silly habits.

  I don’t want people thinking that

  my teeth look like a rabbit’s.

  Bruce Lansky

  The Tattered Billboard

  As I was walking down the street

  one dark
and dreary day,

  I came upon a billboard,

  and much to my dismay,

  the sign was torn and tattered

  from the storm the night before.

  The wind and rain had done its job

  for this is what I saw:

  Smoke Coca-Cola cigarettes,

  chew Wrigley’s spearmint beer,

  Ken-L-Ration dog food

  makes your wife’s complexion clear.

  Slenderize your baby fat

  with Hershey’s candy bars,

  gasoline’s the beauty cream

  that’s used by movie stars.

  So take your next vacation

  in a brand new Frigidaire.

  Learn to play the piano

  in your grandma’s underwear.

  Doctors say that babies

  should smoke till they are three.

  And people over sixty-five

  should bathe in Lipton Tea.

  Anonymous

  Cousin Henrietta’s Growing Something On Her Face

  Cousin Henrietta’s growing something on her face,

  just below her pointy nose—it’s taking up some space.

  Just above her pointy chin, it’s growing bigger, stretching.

  Come to think about it now I find it rather fetching.

  “This is not like Henrietta,” Uncle Snipper sighed.

  “Look! I think it’s growing wider!” Auntie Diddle cried.

  Neighbors, friends, and family have gathered by the dozen,

  all to see what’s growing on our favorite oldest cousin.

  What a shock! It’s changed her face! We had to stare awhile.

  Cousin Henrietta’s growing something called a smile.

  Jerry Rosen

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