I have an invisible dragon.
She’s such a remarkable flyer.
She soars through the sky on invisible wings
exhaling invisible fire.
My dragon is utterly silent.
She soundlessly swoops through the air.
Why, she could be flying beside you right now,
and you’d never know she was there.
And if you should reach out to pet her,
I don’t think you’d notice too much.
Her body is simply too airy and light
to sense her by means of a touch.
And just as you don’t see or hear her,
and just as she cannot be felt,
my dragon does not have an odor at all,
which means that she’ll never be smelt.
Although you may find this outlandish,
you just have to trust me, it’s true.
And, oh, by the way, did I mention I have
an invisible unicorn too?
Mary had a little yam,
with stuffing, gravy, pie and ham.
Now Mary isn’t any thinner.
Welcome to Thanksgiving dinner.
Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie
made you one enormous guy.
After eating two desserts
you may need some bigger shirts.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
His spring and his summer were lousy, I fear,
but autumn is always his best time of year.
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son Burt.
Thought three pies made a nice dessert.
Had to loosen up his belt.
Liked how it tasted, but not how it felt.
Little Boy Blue, don’t blow your horn.
Just finish your turkey and eat all your corn.
It’s making us mental and slightly unstable,
you blowing your horn at the dining room table.
Little Miss Muffet
got up from her tuffet
and shouted, on Thanksgiving Day,
“Please bring on the yams
and potatoes and hams!
I’m sick of these curds and this whey!”
Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater
says they’re better when they’re sweeter.
It should come as no surprise
Peter just eats pumpkin pies.
Yankee Doodle went to town
riding on a turkey,
and sold it to the factory
where they make the turkey jerky.
Jack be nimble.
Jack be spry.
Jack jumped over the
apple pie.
I assure you
he’d get hurt
if he stepped on
my dessert.
Hey diddle, diddle,
go heat up the griddle.
Your mother’s a cooking beginner.
The turkey is burning
because she’s still learning
so we’re having pancakes for dinner.
There was an old woman
who lived in a shoe.
The place was disgusting
and smelled like pee-eww!
The windows were drafty.
The roof was a leaker.
But that’s what you get
when you live in a sneaker.
Humpty Dumpty sat in a tree.
Humpty Dumpty got stung by a bee.
He fell out and hit his head,
and now he thinks his name is “Fred.”
My camel fights with mighty knights.
It makes me feel distraught.
That’s what I get. I bought my pet
down at the Camelot.
“Rapunzel! Rapunzel! You’ve cut off your hair!
Your billowing tresses are no longer there.
That mohawk you’re sporting is spiky and pink.
I’m really not certain just what I should think.
“I came here expecting to clamber a braid,
ascending your tower to come to your aid.
Instead I have suffered the greatest of shocks
to find that you’ve cut off your lovely blonde locks.”
“Prince Charming, Prince Charming,” Rapunzel replied,
“I have no intention of being your bride.
We will not get married. We will not elope.
I’ve cut off my hair and I’ve braided a rope.
“You came here to visit me once every day,
and promised that soon you would take me away,
but you were too clueless to even concieve
of cutting my hair off so we could just leave.
“I cannot believe you were such a big dope.
I come and I go as I please with my rope.
And so, I’m afraid I can’t give you my hand.
In spite of the fabulous wedding you planned.”
From then on Rapunzel was known through the land.
She toured the world in a rock and roll band.
And silly Prince Charming, with rocks in his head,
rode off and got married to Snow White instead.
Poor Cinderella, whose stepmom was mean,
could never see films rated PG-13.
She hadn’t a cell phone and no DVD,
no notebook computer or pocket TV.
She wasn’t allowed to play video games.
The tags on her clothes had unfashionable names.
Her shoes were not trendy enough to be cool.
No limousine chauffeur would drive her to school.
Her house had no drawing room; only a den.
Her bedtime, poor darling, was quarter past ten!
Well one day Prince Charming declared that a ball
would be held in his honor and maidens from all
over the kingdom were welcome to come
and party to techno and jungle house drum.
But Poor Cinderella, with nothing to wear,
collapsed in her stepmother’s La-Z-Boy chair.
She let out a sigh, with a lump in her throat,
then sniffled and picked up the TV remote.
She surfed channel zero to channel one-ten
then went back to zero and started again.
She watched music videos, sitcoms and sports,
commercials and talkshows and weather reports.
But no fairy godmother came to her side
to offer a dress or a carriage to ride.
So Poor Cinderella’s been sitting there since,
while one of her stepsisters married the Prince.
She sits there and sadly complains to the screen,
if only her stepmother wasn’t so mean.
Mirror, mirror, by the sink,
tell me what you truly think.
Am I fat or am I thin?
Will I lose or should I win?
Am I short? Perhaps too tall?
Are my ears a bit too small?
Is my nose exactly right?
Do I have an overbite?
Am I weak or super strong?
Is my hair too short or long?
Am I smart or rather dumb?
Can you say what I’ll become?
Am I nerdy? Am I cool?
Am I awful? Do I rule?
Am I great or do I stink?
Mirror, mirror by the sink.
Mary had a little lamb
whose fleece was worth some money.
Now Mary’s filthy rich
but her bald lamb looks kind of funny.
Jack be nimble.
Jack be quick.
Jack jump over the candlestick.
Jack be nimbler.
Jack be quicker.
The seat of your pants
is starting to flicker.
My Invisible Dragon
A Mother Goose Thanksgiving
There Was an Old Woman
Humpty’s Big Fall
My Camel Fights
Rapunzel! Rapunzel!
Poor Cinderella
Mirror, Mirror
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Jack Be Nimbler
