Everything’s wrong,
Days are too long,
Sunshine’s too hot,
Wind is too strong.
Clouds are too fluffy,
Grass is too green,
Ground is too dusty,
Sheets are too clean.
Stars are too twinkly,
Moon is too high,
Water’s too drippy,
Sand is too dry.
Rocks are too heavy,
Feathers too light,
Kids are too noisy,
Shoes are too tight.
Folks are too happy,
Singin’ their songs.
Why can’t they see it?
Everything’s wrong!
From Where the Sidewalk Ends, thirtieth-anniversary special edition by Shel Silverstein. Copyright © 2004 by Shel Silverstein. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission from HarperCollins Publishers,
1350 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10019. All rights reserved.
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant—
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone—
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)
Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee—
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)
This poem is in the public domain.
Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.
Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you’d be forced to smell your feet.
Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.
Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.
Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place—
be glad your nose is on your face!
From The New Kid on the Block, published by Greenwillow, 1984. Used with permission.
it came today to visit and moved into the house it was smaller than an elephant but larger than a mouse first it slapped my sister then it kicked my dad then it pushed my mother oh! that really made me mad it went and tickled rover and terrified the cat it sliced apart my necktie and rudely crushed my hat it smeared my head with honey and filled the tub with rocks and when i yelled in anger it stole my shoes and socks that’s just the way it happened it happened all today before it bowed politely and softly went away
From The Queen of Eene (Greenwillow, 1974). Copyright © 1974 by Jack Prelutsky. Used with permission.
I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one,
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one!
This poem is in the public domain.