By: Brooke Keith
A poem is a tickle
That’s stuck inside your head.
It’s a thought, a wish, a dream
Just waiting to be read.
A poem is a little thought –
Wiggling inside your ear
If you don’t let that thought out
He’ll tickle you all year!
Wiggling and giggling
That thought will move around
And that little thought won’t stop
Until you write him down.
And when you do
You’ll find it’s true
That when that poem is read
You’ll find another dancing in
The corners of your head.
Isn’t she lovely? This is Liebe, my future service dog. A service dog is an animal that is trained to help someone with special needs. For instance, I have MS and some days I feel really tired. Some days I may be off balance or dizzy. Some days my eyes might not work like they usually do. Dogs like Liebe help by doing small tasks that can save energy along with other cool things . . . like receiving lots of petting and giving lots of love.
This week is MS Awareness Week. Do you know someone with MS? Sometimes our imagination can make things much scarier than they really are. Knowledge is power. Dads and moms like me often live just as long as any other dads and moms. We just have to do things a little differently. Different isn’t always bad. It’s kind of an adventure! Finding new ways to do old things means learning to be brave.
And bravery, my friend . . . that we often learn from kids like you! Fearless. Caring. Kind. Spectacular.
Thanks for the inspiration. 🙂
It’s Bee a Friend Friday! Share a cookie, a laugh or a hug with someone who might be feeling left out.
By Brooke Keith
Meet me in dreamland, little one.
I’ll wait for you there.
I’ll dance with you on Jupiter
With moonbeams in my hair.
We’ll leave the stars as footprints
Upon our midnight flight.
We’ll hop aboard a shooting star
And kiss the moon goodnight.
We’ll spin the rings of Saturn
And discover far off things,
We’ll sail on clouds of moonlight . . .
Where fairies find their wings.
We’ll find a sea of twinkling stars
That we can wish upon
And when the night sky falls asleep
We’ll sail the sun back home.
A Poem by Emily
A donut is a cookie with a bellybutton.
Which is cool because bellybuttons are cute.
But if a donut had legs I would not eat it.
That would be just a little too weird.
If it had arms I would leave at the bakery.
If it had eyeballs I would run screaming.
If it talked to me . . .
I would call my dad because I am not supposed to talk to strange donuts.
Please don’t look under my bed . . .
You might just lose your head.
I whacked the pizza twice
But I still don’t think its dead.
If you do look under there
You will find my underwear!
I think it’s grown eyes and legs
And possibly facial hair.
The pudding from last week
Has really begun to reek!
I put it in my backpack . . .
Then it melted and it leaked.
The dinosaurs have grown mad
Eating food that has gone bad!
They have formed a small army –
And they like to eat moms and dads.
My bed please pass it by
If you want to keep your eye.
But if you really want to look . . .
Please kiss your tush goodbye.
Made up of last week’s underpants, old pudding, LEGO blocks and socks your mom begged you to change three months ago.
Super purpose: Makes sure that no real monsters nest beneath your bed by making it too crowded for them to fit and far too stinky for them to want to.
Sidekick: Monster-In-The-Closet Dude
*Teachers, can’t get your kids to really get into writing this year? Mix it up. Give them a chance to shine at topics they love and even your most stubborn student just might surprise you!