Thursday, April 29, 2010

JELL-O

Patty Lou, my sister, said my Jell-O was alive
When I was only four years old and Patty Lou was five.
It wiggled and it jiggled when she plopped some on a plate.
I went to take a bite, but Patty stopped me, shouting, "Wait!"

"I swear I heard it cry" she said, and held it near her ear,
"It's pleading, 'Put me down!' and, look, it's shivering with fear.
"It's asking us to 'Just say no!' It's begging, 'Set me free!'
"I think it wet the plate, poor thing, oh please just let it be!"

So, even though it looked so sweet and cool and cherry red,
I said, "I pass!" and walked away. I went to bed instead.
I passed up my dessert on each and every Jell-O night
'Cuz slurping up such sad, distraught desserts did not seem right.

But now that we are older (Patty's ten and I am nine)
I know my sister always ate her Jell-O, hers and mine.
I saw her eat it on the sly, that naughty Patty Lou.
But as for me, I've never murdered Jell-O, how 'bout you?

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Stu the Soccer Ball’s Lament

I’m Stu, the school’s last soccer ball. The others got away.
They rolled right off the soccer field at 2 o’clock today.

They grew so sick of being kicked, they wanted to be free.
I tried my best to follow them ~ I hollered, “Wait for me!”

The wind was blowing fiercely and it took me for a ride.
I came quite close to catching up when, suddenly, it died.

I slowly rolled then came to rest, just like a sitting duck,
On Highway One and then got run right over by a truck!

The soccer coach was angry when she scraped me off the street.
Oh, how I wish I were a Nerf, just like my cousin Pete.

She tossed me in the trash can (I don’t like it here at all).
I sit here sulking sadly with the school’s last volleyball.


by donna lee murphy and carolyn lueders burica
Copyright 2010

Monday, March 1, 2010

~ My Mom's Spaghetti ~

My mom makes disgusting spaghetti
with horseradish sauce and sardines.
She tops it with pickles and mustard,
bananas and barbecued beans.

She serves it for supper on Sunday.
On Monday we have it for lunch.
It's breakfast on Tuesdsay and Wednesday.
By Thursday, you guessed it, it's brunch.

I don't like to hurt my mom's feelings.
I said that i loved it. (I lied.)
I always gave mine to our doggy.
And that's why our poor doggy died.

So, next time you serve us spaghetti,
dear mother, don't make it like that.
Please serve it with red sauce and meatballs,
and that way it won't kill the cat.

by Kenn Nesbitt & Donna Lee Murphy
copyright 2006



Grandpa Pete & Me

Grandpa Pete & Me

Sunday, February 28, 2010

My Boring Vacation

I’m playing Battlestar again (they call me “Battle King”).
As far as my vacation plans, I haven’t planned a thing.

I’m welcome to go fishing on the yacht with Uncle Jim.
But I just hate to murder fish, and also I can’t swim.

My father said he’d send for me, he lives in Paris, France.
But I’m afraid to fly (last year I nearly peed my pants).

I thought about a camping trip ~ I dig a woodsy hike.
But last time I got poison oak, and wrecked my mountain bike.

Aunt Sue would say, “The circus!”, or “a race at Church Hill Downs!”
I’m just not into horses, and I’m scared to death of clowns.

My wealthy cousin Frank said, “Kid, you’re always welcome here.”
But Frank is rather snobbish (and he always reeks of beer).

I’m bored to death of Battlestar, and feeling rather blue.
I’d better go outside and look for something fun to do.

Perhaps I’ll visit Bill, my friend on 25th and Grand.
Just half a mile away from here ~ next door to Disney Land.

By Donna Lee Murphy
Copyright 2006
Miss West

Miss West is a good English teacher.
She’s smart, but supremely uncool.
We call her “The Wicked Witch of the
West Glorydale Grove Grammar School.”

She hollers all day at her students.
It’s plain that Miss West hates our guts.
She always shouts, “Sherry! Stop talking!”
And, “Debbie! You’re driving me nuts!”

She grins when the school day is over.
She practically runs out the door.
Burns rubber and squeals onto Main Street.
Her pedal must be on the floor!

She’s crabby and mean and quite cranky.
(We pray that she won’t reproduce.)
She’s meaner than Mr. Orseno,
and harder on us than Coach Bruce!

Now, why would she choose to sell ice cream?
(add “clueless” to “crabby” and “mean”)
She sees us each day in the summer
at Glorydale Grove’s Dairy Queen!

by donna lee murphy
copyright 2006
Thirty-Two Lights

Half a dozen fireflies are blinking in the trees,
Making silent music with their light.
Down the lane a dozen more come dancing on a breeze,
Twinkling as the dusk gives way to night.

Fourteen fairies flutter by with wands and glitter bells,
Laughing as the moon begins to rise.
Soaring through the rustling trees of lonely Dixie Dells,
Flirting with those eighteen fireflies.

Glitter Tag and Hide & Seek, Bell Hop and “Bag the Troll.”
(Faeries always win at Hide & Seek)*
Seven games of Mushroom Squash ~ triumphant shouts of “Goal!”
Thirsty now, they race to Dixie Creek.

Mr. Moon is full and bright and, chuckling softly, he
Grins down upon the creatures as they play.
Six sleepy bugs light out for home, beyond the Willow Tree.
Six more decide to end their busy day.

Faeries yawn and stretch their wings, as six more lightning bugs
Follow suit, “Good night, sweet friends!” they shout.
Fourteen faeries find their beds (they each get thirteen hugs).
As, one by one, their twinkly lights go out.


* Fireflies have limited control over their blinking torsos.

Copyright 2008
By Donna Lee Murphy

The Cool Twins

The Cool Twins

One windy winter morning we refused to wear our hats.
We left the house, both bootless, like a pair of braindead brats.

While slogging through the slush we whined, “Our feet are freezing cold!”
We should have worn our gloves and thermal socks as we were told!”

“Boys, bundle up!” mom warned, but we said, “Man, it just ain’t cool!”
You bet we both regret it now ~ we’re half a mile from school!

We cried, “We’re not your babies, mom. Tomorrow we’ll be ten.”
Then sauntered out with coats unzipped ~ but mom was right again.

We’re sorry now for sassing her and causing such a fuss.
We’ll bundle up tomorrow (we’re too cool to ride the bus).


by Donna Lee Murphy
copyright 2006
Screaming Stevie

Screaming Stevie screamed all day.
“Mom!! I’m going out! Okay?!”
“Mom and dad! I’ll be right back!!”
“Dad! I’ll be out back with Jack!”

“Mom and dad! I’m home,” he’d cry.
“Sis, I’m going skating! Bye!”
“Darn it, mom, I slipped and fell!”
“Bring a Bandaid(r) quick!,” he’d yell.

“Goin’ fishin’ sis!” he’d shout,
slamming doors and stomping out.
Stomping back, he’d blow a kiss,
Screaming, “Smell ya later, sis!”

But mom and dad don’t really mind.
Their Stevie’s often sweet and kind.
I bet they’ll miss their screaming son,
When Steve moves out (he’s 31!).

by Donna Lee Murphy
Copyright 2007

Planet Vacation

Captain’s Log: June 7th, noon ~ the year: 4,001.
Children wave goodbye to Earth. Vacation has begun.

Planet Mars is first. You’ve never seen so many toys!
Paintball, forts and skateboard courts ~ no girls allowed, just boys.

Planet Dune’s our second stop, for kids who love the sand.
“Grab your pails and beach towels kids ~ we’re just about to land.”

Dune is very beautiful, but way too hot for me.
Sun? Most worlds have one, of course, but Planet Dune has three!

Kids who love the snow select a planet known as “Ice!”
The slopes are quite impressive. It’s a skier’s paradise.

Pluto’s next. Two hundred kids prepare to disembark.
Picture this: a world that’s one immense amusement park.

Disney World is cooler, but it’s more expensive too.
Lucky kids with lots of bucks line up (there’s just a few).

Band Camp World’s so loud I have to shout, “Band kids! We’re HERE!”
“Marsha and Starfeena! Don’t forget your phloots this year!”

Band Camp World is so elite, they only take the best.
It’s “invitation only” for this summer music fest.

Kids who love the woods are psyched. Next stop: a world called “Tree.”
Guess how many chose this world? One thousand twenty three!

Planet Ping Pong’s fun, but doesn’t draw much of a crowd.
The sign on Planet Venus clearly states, “No Boys Allowed!”

Hip Hop World is popular for kids who love to rap.
Slumberland is quiet ~ it’s for those who’d rather nap.

One more child to go ~ a cranky, spoiled brat named Brad.
“I can’t make up my mind,” he whines. (This kid is worse than bad!)

He’s difficult ~ no, change that to impossible ~ to please.
He loves the sun, the sand, the snow, amusement parks AND trees.

Brad cries, “I want to do it all, man; get my money’s worth!”
I roll my eyes and shrug and fly him back to Planet Earth.

* robo-busdrivers do not show emotion.

By Donna Lee Murphy
Copyright 2006

The Carnival

The Carnival

Big Fun® rolled into town last week ~ the carnival, of course.
With awesome rides and water slides (they even brought a horse!)

I watched them set up camp and settle in for seven days.
Erecting roller coasters like The Zipper and The Blaze!

Day one, I lost my favorite hat ~ day two, my new stuffed clown.
Day three, I lost my flip-flops while suspended upside down.

Days four and five, I lost six bucks in pocket change, and then,
Day six, I lost my toe ring (and my baby brother, Ben!)*

Day seven, after chowing down on carny food and punch,
I staggered off the Puke-a-Whirl and lost my corn-dog lunch!

I also lost my voice (I blame The Mega Milky Way**).
Can’t wait to watch the carnival roll out again today!


* I later found Ben trapped in a corner trying, unsuccessfully, to steer a Bumper Car.

** scary freakin’ roller coaster

by Donna Lee Murphy
copyright 2006