• Nov. 19, 2008
The Pie Poem
The Pie Poem
By Cassie H.
I like pie; pie is so good,
If I was offered some, you know that I would
Make it disappear, into my tummy
I like pie; pie is so yummy
I like all kinds of flavors, and just to name a few,
Cherry, pumpkin, and apple pie are my favorite kinds of food
If you don’t like pie, then you must be bizarre!
When there’s ever a pie-eating contest, you better run far
Once I saw some strawberries, so juicy and sweet
They were so good and tasty; an occasional summertime treat
So I picked a whole bunch and brought them inside
And when I came out, I had a delicious strawberry pie
I know I’ll never get tired of this scrumptious dessert
Until I get full; then I’ll have to stop and burp
So if I was given a choice, you now know that I
Would choose instead of cookies, a lovely piece of pie
Summer 2006
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• Nov. 18, 2008
Coyote Christmas
Coyote Christmas
By Cassie H.
‘Twas the night before Christmas and inside the barn,
The cat was sleeping soundly curled up with his yarn
The horses were snoring; all eight in their stalls,
Trying to stay up their eyelids had begun to fall
The sheep and the goats were locked up in their pens,
The roosters were keeping watch over their hens
As you can see, everything was all right,
But something disturbed this perfect Christmas night
A coyote was looking for a Christmas dinner feast;
With some chicken and sheep it was sure to be complete
The farmer was sleeping with his dog in his lap,
The tree had been decorated and he was taking a nap
He and his dog heard the noise and woke up with a start,
The farmer grabbed his gun and his dog gave a bark
The coyote knew he should run or be toast,
But with no food he would be a horrible host
Too late! It looks like he’s going to be dead meat,
When from out of the dark forest…could it be?
It was a jolly fat man wearing a suit of red!
The coyote was shocked and in disbelief shook his head
St. Nick faced the farmer and told him to stop,
“Do you think he would be here if he knew how to shop?”
Said he, “Share the Christmas spirit; spread it around!”
Replied the farmer, “Of beef I guess I could spare a pound”
Santa Claus gave a long hearty laugh,
Then he turned to his sleigh and grabbed a fat sack
It was filled with presents: a gift for everyone!
“Merry Christmas to all!” Now my poem is done
December 2006
