My Legs Both Understand Me
My legs both understand me.
My shoulders have my back.
My arms are always on my side.
My feet know I’m on track.
My hands are both forgiving,
and help me seize the day.
My ears are awesome listeners.
My eyes see things my way.
My bottom is behind me.
My hair sticks up for me.
My fingers give me two thumbs up.
My smile won’t disagree.
My bones are so supportive.
My veins are all true-blue.
My legs both understand me.
I hope that you do too.
My Favorite Word is Floofy
My favorite word is “floofy.”
It’s such a floofy word.
In fact, I’d say that floofy
is the floofiest I’ve heard.
I use it when I’m floofing up,
or when I’m all floofed out.
Whenever I feel floofy-doof
I give a floofy shout!
I may not know what floofy means.
But — floofy! — that’s okay.
I’m sure it’s floofy floofy floof
to floof it anyway.
I know it might sound silly.
I know it might sound goofy.
But, still, there’s not another word
that’s floofier than floofy.
Do You C What I C?
I saw a crawdad camping
and a crab in a canoe.
I watched a clamshell clapping
and I heard a catfish coo.
I caught a clumsy clownfish
in a coral-colored cape,
and came across a cod who claimed
he couldn’t cook a crepe.
I saw a cocky crocodile
play cribbage with a crane.
I even watched a cuttlefish
consume a candy cane.
You could be kind of curious
how all this came to be.
It happened when I went to C
to C what I could C.
Examine any Fire Hydrant
Examine any fire hydrant.
This is what you’ll see:
Inside it’s full of H2O.
Outside it’s K9P.
An Echo in My Room
There’s an echo, echo, echo,
in my room, my room today.
It’s an echo that I wish,
I wish, I wish would go away.
It’s a problem, it’s a problem,
for no matter what I do,
if I make a sound, a sound,
the echo, echo makes it too.
When this echo, echo, echo,
started, started yesterday,
I was not amused, was not amused.
It’s not okay, okay.
Now I must be silent, silent.
I’m afraid, afraid to speak.
If I’m talking, if I’m talking,
it might last, might last all week.
It’s annoying, but it seems, it seems,
it’s here, it’s here to stay.
It’s my parrot, it’s my parrot
saying everything I say.
To B or Not to B
I bought a black banana,
and a broken baseball bat,
a burst balloon, a busted boat,
a beat-up bowler hat.
I wasn’t being brainy, bright,
or brilliant, but you see,
my brain was boggled after
being bitten by a bee.
My Sheep Is Being Sheepish
My sheep is being sheepish.
My cat is acting catty.
My horse, of course, is sort of hoarse.
My bat’s completely batty.
My chicken’s plainly chicken.
My hare is fairly hairy.
My cuckoo’s truly cuckoo.
My mare is mainly merry.
My fish is frankly fishy,
and so my flea is fleeing.
My slug is somewhat sluggish.
My bee is simply being.
I have so many animals
and this is how they’re feeling,
except for one, who’s tons of fun:
My seal is on the ceiling.
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Hello, My Name is Madison
Hello, my name is Madison.
I live on Lincoln Street.
I’m in the state of Washington.
I think that’s pretty neat.
My middle name is Kennedy.
My last name is Monroe.
My name has got more Presidents
than anyone I know.
My father’s name is Harrison.
My brother’s name is Grant.
My mother’s name is Reagan,
and Taylor is my aunt.
I go to Eisenhower School.
My family drives a Ford.
That’s way too many Presidents
to ever be ignored.
It can’t just be coincidence.
It’s not some chance event.
When I grow up, it’s obvious…
I’ll be the President!
I Met a Lonely Octopus
I met a lonely octopus
while sitting on a docktopus
and he began to talktopus
and this is what he said:
“Hello, my name is Jacquestopus.
I’d like to take a walktopus
perhaps around the blocktopus
or to the park instead.”
I didn’t mean to gawktopus,
but I was in such shocktopus
to meet a talking octopus,
I must have lost my head.
It seems I socked poor Jacquestopus
and knocked him off the docktopus,
and so that talking octopus
got fairly scared, and fled.
I hope someday that Jacquestopus
forgives me for the socktopus
and comes back to the docktopus
where he can meet my croctopus
who says his name is Fred.
