Where The Sidewalk Ends (2 page)

Six means, “Sigh” and seven means, “Bye”

And eight means, “Come back soon, soon, soon,”

Eight means, “Come back soon.”

And then I scratch a thousand times.

And he taps with a bappity-bimm.

And he laughs so hard he shakes the sky-

That means I’m tickling him!

RAIN

I opened my eyes

And looked up at the rain.

And it dripped in my head

And flowed into my brain.

And all that I hear as I lie in my bed

Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,

I walk very slow,

I can’t do a handstand-

I might overflow.

So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said-

I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.

TWO
BOXES

Two boxes met upon the road.

Said one unto the other,

“If you’re a box,

And I’m a box.

Then you must be my brother.

Our sides are thin.

We’re cavin’ in.

And we must get no thinner.”

And so two boxes, hand in hand.

Went home to have their dinner.

TRUE
STORY

This morning I jumped on my horse

And went out for a ride.

And some wild outlaws chased me

And they shot me in the side.

So I crawled into a wildcat’s cave

To find a place to hide,

But some pirates found me sleeping there,

And soon they had me tied

To a pole and built a fire

Under me-I almost cried

Till a mermaid came and cut me loose

And begged to be my bride.

So I said I’d come back Wednesday

But I must admit I lied.

Then I ran into a jungle swamp

But I forgot my guide

And I stepped into some quicksand,

And no matter how I tried

I couldn’t get out, until I met

A water snake named Clyde,

Who pulled me to some cannibals

Who planned to have me fried.

But an eagle came and swooped me up

And through the air we flied,

But he dropped me in a boiling lake

A thousand miles wide.

And you’ll never guess what I did then-

I
DIED
.

BOA
CONSTRICTOR

Oh, I’m being eaten

By a boa constrictor,

A boa constrictor,

A boa constrictor,

I’m being eaten by a boa constrictor,

And I don’t like it-one bit.

Well, what do you know?

It’s nibblin’ my toe.

Oh, gee,

It’s up to my knee.

Oh my.

It’s up to my thigh.

Oh, fiddle.

It’s up to my middle.

Oh, heck.

It’s up to my neck.

Oh, dread,

It’s upmmmmmmmmmmffffffffff…

HECTOR
THE
COLLECTOR

Hector the Collector

Collected bits of string,

Collected dolls with broken heads

And rusty bells that would not ring.

Pieces out of picture puzzles,

Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,

Twists of wires, worn-out tires.

Paper bags and broken bricks.

Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,

Gatlin’ guns that wouldn’t shoot.

Leaky boats that wouldn’t float

And stopped-up horns that wouldn’t toot.

Butter knives that had no handles,

Copper keys that fit no locks.

Rings that were too small for fingers,

Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.

Worn-out belts that had no buckles,

‘Lectric trains that had no tracks,

Airplane models, broken bottles.

Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.

Hector the Collector

Loved these things with all his soul-

Loved them more than shining diamonds.

Loved them more than glistenin’ gold.

Hector called to all the people,

“Come and share my treasure trunk!”

And all the silly sightless people

Came and looked … and called it junk.

INVENTION

I’ve done it,I’ve done it!

Guess what I’ve done!

Invented a light that plugs into the sun.

The sun is bright enough,

The bulb is strong enough.

But, oh, there’s only one thing wrong…

The cord ain’t long enough.

THE
GOOGIES
ARE
COMING

The googies are coming, the old people say,

To buy little children and take them away.

Fifty cents for fat ones.

Twenty cents for lean ones.

Fifteen cents for dirty ones.

Thirty cents for clean ones,

A nickel each for mean ones.

The googies are coming, and maybe tonight.

To buy little children and lock them up tight.

Eighty cents for husky ones.

Quarter for the weak ones.

Penny each for noisy ones,

A dollar for the meek ones.

Forty cents for happy ones.

Eleven cents for sad ones.

And, kiddies, when they come to buy.

It won’t do any good to cry.

But-just between yourself and I-

They never buy the bad ones!

FOR
SALE

One sister for sale!

One sister for sale!

One crying and spying young sister for sale!

I’m really not kidding.

So who’ll start the bidding?

Do I hear a dollar?

A nickel?

A penny?

Oh, isn’t there, isn’t there, isn’t there any

One kid who will buy this old sister for sale.

This crying and spying young sister for sale?

SLEEPING
SARDINES

“I’m tired of eating just beans,” says I,

So I opened a can of sardines.

But they started to squeak,

“Hey, we’re tryin’ to sleep.

We were snuggled up tight

Till you let in the light.

You big silly sap, let us finish our nap.

Now close up the lid!”

So that’s what I did___

Will somebody please pass the beans?

ONE
INCH
TALL

If you were only one inch tall, you’d ride a worm to school.

The teardrop of a crying antwould be your swimming pool.

A crumb of cake would be a feast

And last you seven days at least,

A flea would be a frightening beast

If you were one inch tall.

If you were only one inch tall, you’d walk beneath the door,

And it would take about a month to get down to the store.

A bit of fluff would be your bed,

You’d swing upon a spider’s thread.

And wear a thimble on your head

If you were one inch tall.

You’d surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.

You couldn’t hug your mama, you’d just have to hug her thumb.

You’d run from people’s feet in fright.

To move a pen would take all night,

(This poem took fourteen years to write-

‘Cause I’m just one inch tall).

ENTER
THIS
DESERTED
HOUSE

But please walk softly as you do.

Frogs dwell here and crickets too.

Ain’t no ceiling, only blue

Jays dwell here and sunbeams too.

Floors are flowers-take a few.

Ferns grow here and daisies too.

Whoosh, swoosh-too-whit, too-woo,

Bats dwell here and hoot owls too.

Ha-ha-ha, hee-hee, hoo-hoooo.

Gnomes dwell here and goblins too.

And my child, I thought you knew

I dwell here … and so do you.

SICK

“I cannot go to school today,”

Said little Peggy Ann McKay.

“I have the measles and the mumps,

A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,

I’m going blind in my right eye.

My tonsils are as big as rocks,

I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox

And there’s one more-that’s seventeen.

And don’t you think my face looks green?

My leg is cut, my eyes are blue-

It might be instamatic flu.

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,

I’m sure that my left leg is broke-

My hip hurts when I move my chin,

My belly button’s caving in.

My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,

My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.

My nose is cold, my toes are numb,

I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,

I hardly whisper when I speak.

My tongue is filling up my mouth,

I think my hair is falling out.

My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight.

My temperature is one-o-eight.

My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,

There is a hole inside my ear.

I have a hangnail, and my heart is-what?

What’s that? What’s that you say?

You say today is … Saturday?

G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

UPSTAIRS

There’s a family of wrens who live upstairs.

Upstairs, upstairs, upstairs,

Inside my hat, all cozy in

My hair, my hair, my hair.

I’ve moved a dozen times and still

They’re there, they’re there, they’re there.

I’d like to get away from them.

But where, but where, but where?

This hat just isn’t big enough

To share, to share, to share.

But now I see you’re bored and you

Don’t care, don’t care, don’t care

‘Bout the wrens who live inside

My hair, my hair, my hair.

THE
GARDEN

Ol’ man Simon, planted a diamond.

Grew hisself a garden the likes of none.

Sprouts all growin’, comin’ up glowin’.

Fruit of jewels all shinin’ in the sun.

Colors of the rainbow.

See the sun and rain grow

Sapphires and rubies on ivory vines,

Grapes of jade, just

Ripenin’ in the shade, just

Ready for the squeezin’ into green jade wine.

Pure gold corn there,

Blowin’ in the warm air,

Ol’ crow nibblin’ on the amnythyst seeds.

In between the diamonds, ol’ man Simon

Crawls about pullin’ out platinum weeds.

Pink pearl berries.

All you can carry.

Put ‘em in a bushel and

Haul ‘em into town.

Up in the tree there’s

Opal nuts and gold pears-

Hurry quick, grab a stick

And shake some down.

Take a silver tater.

Emerald tomater,

Fresh plump coral melons

Hangin’ in reach.

Ol’ man Simon,

Diggin’ in his diamonds.

Stops and rests and dreams about

One … real… peach.

JUMPING
ROPE

This started out as a

jumping rope

You prob’ly think that

I’m a dope

But this started out as a

jumping rope

And now I fear there is

no hope

But this started out as a

jumping rope.

WHO

Who can kick a football

From here out to Afghanistan?

I can!

Who fought tigers in the street

While all the policemen ran and hid?

I did!

Who will fly and have X-ray eyes-

And be known as the man no bullet can kill?

I will!

Who can sit and tell lies all night?

I might!

RIDICULOUS
ROSE

Her mama said, “Don’t eat with your fingers.”

“OK,” said Ridiculous Rose,

So she ate with her toes!

WHERE
THE
SIDEWALK
ENDS

There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins.

And there the grass grows soft and white.

And there the sun burns crimson bright.

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

And the dark street winds and bends.

Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow

We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow.

And watch where the chalk-white arrows go

To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow.

And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,

For the children, they mark, and the children, they know

The place where the sidewalk ends.

SNOWMAN

‘Twas the first day of the springtime,

And the snowman stood alone

As the winter snows were melting.

And the pine trees seemed to groan,

“Ah, you poor sad smiling snowman,

You’ll be melting by and by.”

Said the snowman, “What a pity.

For I’d like to see July.

Yes, I’d like to see July, and please don’t ask me why.

But I’d like to, yes I’d like to, oh I’d like to see July.”

Chirped a robin, just arriving,

“Seasons come and seasons go,

And the greatest ice must crumble

When it’s flowers’ time to grow.

And as one thing is beginning

So another thing must die.

And there’s never been a snowman

Who has ever seen July.

No, they never see July, no matter how they try.

No, they never ever, never ever, never see July.”

But the snowman sniffed his carrot nose

And said, “At least I’ll try,”

And he bravely smiled his frosty smile

And blinked his coal-black eye.

And there he stood and faced the sun

A blazin’ from the sky-

And I really cannot tell you

If he ever saw July.

Did he ever see July? You can guess as well as I

If he ever, if he never, if he ever saw July.