Teddy Bear's Alphabet Tea

Last week my friend Faye set a kitchen timer for five minutes. "Freewrite until you hear the bell," she told us. "The subject is 'teddy bear.'"

Some twenty years ago or more, Faye was a student in my creative writing class. Now, with the tables turned, she instructs a group of writers who meet once a week at our local senior center.

The following children's poem exists as a result of that activity. I hope you will read it to a little person you love, and tell me how it went. (And thanks to Beanie Baby "Miami," who agreed to pose here for purposes of illustration.)

Teddy Bear 's Alphabet Tea

Teddy bear,

Find a chair.

Grab that one right over there.

A-B-C

Sit with me,

And have a cup of tea.

Teddy bear,

We're a pair!

How we love to sip and share!

D-E-F-G

This can be

Such fun, as you will see!

Teddy bear,

I don't care

If you just sit there still and stare.

H-I-J

We can play

This party game all day.

Teddy bear,

If there's a tear

Upon your head below your hair--

K-L-M-N--

I can mend

The hole for you, my friend. 

Teddy bear,

Where oh where

Is heaven, and can we go there?

O-P-Q-R

Can we go far

And wish upon a star?

Teddy bear,

Do you dare

To let me see inside your lair?

S-T-U-V

And will there be

Vast treasures hidden there?

Teddy Bear,

A lovely air

Is lilting 'round us everywhere.

W-X-Y-Z

I hear and see

Magic when you play with me.

The Jester and the Cabbage

When the hour was dark and the moment was drear,
A huge cabbage terrorized New Windermere.
So green was its hue; so tremendous its bulk
That it went by the nickname "Cruciferous Hulk."
It stormed through the woods; it stomped through the vale;
It marched into town flanked by parsley and kale.
Could the kingdom be saved?  The folks had their doubts
'Cause it came with an army of huge brussels sprouts.
They bolted their doors, but all was in vain.
The veggies grew more when it started to rain.
Worse than Godzilla, worse than King Kong,
The cabbage would kidnap the kids--and that's wrong!
So the townspeople rallied, implored of the law
To grate it to death in a big bowl of slaw.
They had to be careful; the cabbage had spikes--
It let out the air from the tires of their bikes.
It punctured their fences and poked through their walls,
And left a big trail of green slime in their halls.
The dukes were outnumbered; the damsels, distressed;
The king tore his hair, and the queen beat her breast.
A committee convened, but to no avail--
The cabbage cried, "Tear down the town!" to the kale.
The king took some action; he didn't think twice:
He summoned the jester to ask his advice.

The jester arrived in his bells and his cap
And his big, pointed shoes that reached up to his lap,
And he said to the cabbage, "Wait! Wait 'fore you strike.
I'll show you a trick--and this trick you will like."
The cabbage was startled and stopped in mid-poke,
And asked if the jester was playing a joke.
"Well, actually, yes," said the jester with glee
As he balanced a kumquat on top of his knee.
He reached in his pocket and took out a pear
That he squeezed and then smashed right onto his own chair!
Then what happened next you just wouldn't believe--
A big orange pumpkin rolled out of his sleeve!
With a thud and a clatter it lit on the floor,
Then, gathering momentum, rolled right out the door!
Meanwhile, the jester was not nearly through
With the trick he was showing the cabbage and crew:
He had grapes on his fingers and plums on his toes,
And he balanced bananas on top of his nose.
The king couldn't help it; he let out a laugh
That soon spread to the duke and the rest of his staff.
The brussels sprouts snickered; the parsley's big frown
Wiggle-jiggled a bit and then turned upside down.
The curly-leafed kale couldn't stifle a grin
When the jester did handstands on back of a hen.
And what of the cabbage?  A gulp and a cough
And a snort and a chortle--he laughed his head off.

With one headless cabbage no longer a threat,
The jester replied to the veggies, "I'll bet
That you'd like to join with me and be in my act
And perform in the circus for crowds that are packed.
We'll go on the road; we'll perform in a tent;
I'll make you all stars--and I won't charge you rent." 
The brussels sprouts blinked and the parsley agreed.
Said the kale, "Ever since I was just a wee seed,
I have wanted to act, to perform in a show,
So draw up the contract; I'm ready to go."
The king and the queen and, in short, everyone
Gave a cheer just to praise what the jester had done.
He had rescued the kingdom, had kept it from harm
With a trick he had kept up the sleeve on his arm.
For he knew that no problem could ruin the day
If those with the problems would laugh them away.
So the veggies and he took the vaudeville route,
And the cabbage? Some spices and heat made him kraut.

A Much-Needed Note of Explanation:  Several weeks ago I was part of a community college lifelong learning class taught by one of my writer friends, wherein we considered how photographs might inspire poems.  The first night, she gave each of us a photo prompt and asked us to engage in a brainstorming process to generate words and phrases it might suggest, and, ultimately, to derive a poem related in some way to the picture.

As you can see below, the photo I selected (sight-unseen) was a doozy.  I could tell it was a specimen of some kind of green vegetation, but the close-up shot pretty well abstracted it beyond recognition.  I learned later that the photo depicts a hosta flower, but that knowledge came only after the above piece, a narrative kiddie poem, took shape in my head and then found its way onto paper.

I have yet to try the poem out on the kids, but I am hoping they get a kick out of the rhythm, the rhyme, and the far-out story situation. After all, Dr. Seuss made a fortune this way.  Maybe Sooby will want to illustrate it.  I hope so, and I hope you enjoy the piece as well.

  

The Santa Rhymlet

My brain is jelly.  This happens every year at the point when the shopping and the wrapping and the card-sending and those other seasonal trappings not only catch up with me on the Racetrack to Christmas but leave me behind in a cloud of dust just as I am reaching for that one last chocolate-covered cherry.

I offer this report on the condition of my brain as a feeble explanation of why I would compose the thing you are about to read.  Not quite a poem, it defies known genre.  As best I can tell, it is a little rhymlet, meant to be recited aloud with your grandkid and accompanied by the kind of rhythmic lap-clap-slapping sequences we all learned back in the days when the lady with the alligator purse ruled the playground.

I will give you the text first, then the actions and stage directions.  Doing this will make it look more complicated than it really is, but, unfortunately, that is the nature of such directions. 

But if I can explain it clearly enough to give you an idea of what I have in mind here, maybe it is something you and your grandkids can have fun with over the holidays.  If not, I will be locking my doors and watching out my window for the guys in the little white coats.  Here goes:

The Text:

Santa in-a sleigh-a go-a fly-fly-fly.
Reina-deera pull-a through the sky-sky-sky.
Land-a on-a roof-a up-a high-high-high.
     Santa say-a what?  He say-a "Ho, Ho, Ho!"
Go, Santa! Go, Santa!  Go-a, go-a, go!

Santa wear-a furry red-a suit-suit-suit.
Santa wear-a pair-a black-a boot-boot-boot.
Santa bring-a kids-a lot-a loot-loot-loot.
     Santa say-a what?  He say-a "Ho, Ho, Ho!"
Go, Santa!  Go, Santa!  Go-a, go-a, go!

Santa see-a cookies on-a plate-plate-plate.
Not-a crumba-a left-a 'cause he ate-ate-ate.
Santa see-a time-a get-a late-late-late.
     Santa say-a what?  He say-a "Ho, Ho, Ho!"
Go, Santa!  Go, Santa!  Go-a, go-a, go!

Now, think of each line as having seven "beats," which you might count like this:  "1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and  5, 6, 7."  Notice that counts 5, 6, and 7 always fall on three identical words at the end of each line.  Counts 1, 2, 3, and 4 (in the first three lines of each stanza anyway) fall on stressed syllables.  With that clear-as-mud explanation, you are ready to add the clapping movements detailed below.

The "Choreography":

First, sit facing your grandchild.  Introduce these basic movements:
     LAP:  Hit your lap with both open hands simultaneously.
     CLAP:  Self-explanatory.  Your grandkid has done this successfully since the patty-cake days.
     SLAP:  Both players bring their open hands up chest-high and reach forward to slap the other person's similarly open hands.

OK.  So accompanying Lines 1, 2, 3, and 5 of each stanza will be the following sequence:
     LAP, LAP, CLAP, CLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP.

On Line 4 of each stanza, there is no clapping, just shared dialogue.  You take the first half: "Santa says what?"  The kid answers: "He say-a "Ho, Ho, Ho!"

And that's it.  I can't believe you are still reading.

In my mind, Sooby and I are going to have a field day doing this when she comes for Christmas.  Even the littler kids might have fun with the silly words.  However, if this kind of thing lacks the dignity you and your grandkids aspire to this Christmas season, I hope you can find some other way to share the magic of words and music with your little ones.

As for me, I will let you know if this works, or if, instead, Googie is a candidate for "The Gong Show."  Stay tuned.












      

The Peanut Pincher

If you pour peanuts in a bowl
Or in a teacup just for show,
Watch beside you, watch behind--
The Peanut Pincher's sure to find
Your chewy treasures round and rare
As you sit, munching, in your chair.

Just when you look the other way
Or your attention starts to stray,
That's the Peanut Pincher's cue
To try to filch a nut from you.
(And there is no way to make him keep
Away from peanuts in a heap.)

The Peanut Pincher then will come
Shaped like the forefinger and thumb
Of someone on whose lap you sit
And one you don't suspect a bit.
( I know of this from evenings past--
And know these P.P.'s can be fast.)

Remember just the other day
When you and I were tired of play
And wanted just a little snack?
There, in the cupboard, from a sack
We scooped the nuts that we would eat
And nonchalantly took our seat.

Before you knew it--10, 9, 8--
They disappeared from off our plate,
And, then there went--Oh Lands Alive!--
Our numbers 7, 6, and 5.
Four, 3, 2, and 1--they just
Kept going till they bit the dust.

With nothing left to crunch or munch,
We opted just to get some lunch.
We got out cheese and bread and meat,
And mustard made our stack complete.
You held your sandwich tight, and cheese
Oozed out the edges when you'd squeeze.

I knew what you had on your mind:
You were afraid of who might find
Your dinner there and snatch a bite,
And that would surely start a fight
'Cause you had stood for quite enough
Of Peanut Pincher's sneaky stuff.

I said, "Relax, I think he's gone.
He's probably out there on the lawn.
I doubt that he will soon be back
To swipe a kiddo's lunch or snack."

I looked at you, then looked away
And smiled at what I'd done that day.
I licked my lips; I tasted salt--

That was the Peanut Pincher's fault.

"I Am Five Today"

Happy Birthday, Sooby!

This marks the fifth anniversary of the day you made me Googie.  It has been a joy to watch you grow and learn, and our lives are all the richer for this blonde-haired, blue-eyed bundle of energy and imagination that has become a part of our family.

Everyone marvels at how much you look like your mama, and I myself marvel at how much you think and act like she did as a little girl.  That is most often good, sometimes not quite so much, but the resemblances are undeniable, and I love you both immeasurably.

Today I share this poem with you, but first I have a confession to make.  I did not write it for you.  I wrote it a little over twenty-five years ago when your mama turned five.  On her fifth birthday, we made copies to share with Miss Carol and your preschool class along with the cupcakes we baked in honor of such a momentous occasion.

This is a momentous time for you, too.  You are big into dance class, soccer, T-ball, and swimming lessons.  You have your first loose tooth, discovered rather painfully in the course of eating a brownie at Googie's house week before last.  Just five days ago, you gained another little brother.  In September, you will go to kindergarten, which I predict will afford an endless collection of treasures for "Googie's Attic."

I hope you enjoy this little verse for years to come.  It is as relevant for you today as it was for your mama in 1987.  Happy Birthday, sugar plum, from Googie and Pa-pa.

        I Am Five Today

I'm going to sing a birthday song,
Taking Teddy Bear along,
Happy that we both belong--
     And that I'm five today.

I'm gong to help my mama bake
A twenty-layer birthday cake.
Chocolate fudge is what we'll make--
     For I am five today.

I'm blowing all my candles out,
Going to go outside and shout.
Tell you what it's all about--
     I am five today.

I'm reaching for the cookie jar,
Making wishes on a star,
Wondering how it shines so far--
     I am five today.

I'm wondering what could be inside
Those gifts with ribbons gaily tied?
I couldn't peek although I tried--
     'Cause I am five today.

Ir was tired of being four,
Couldn't reach the cupboard door
(Not a problem anymore)--
     "Cause I am five today.

Next year when I'm turning six,
I might try some magic tricks,
Maybe learn karate kicks--
     But I am five today.

I thought today would ne'er arrive,
Sweet as honey in a hive.
Gee, I'm glad that I'm alive
     And that I'm five today.



  

Mr. Bumpy Man

One night, over the Memorial Day weekend just past, I was tucking Sooby and Pooh in for the night when Sooby began to knock on the wall by her bed.  "Don't bump," I said.  I was afraid she would wake her little sister, who was already asleep in the adjoining room.  "The noise might scare her," I explained, to which Pooh replied, "Yeah.  She might think Mr. Bumpy Man is coming."

And so, "Mr. Bumpy Man" has been incubating in my head for a couple days now.  I figured it would hatch as a children's verse, but was worried that it might come out scary.  After all, I remember quite well some scary nights from my own childhood, when I was convinced a witch was living in my bedroom closet.  So the poem turns out with a repeated, empowering line that I hope gives kids a little courage when they hear those things that go bump in the night.

          Mr. Bumpy Man

Mr. Bumpy Man, Mr. Bumpy Man,
I hear your bumpy, thumpy hand
Tap on my wall and windows, and
You don't scare me at all.

Sometimes at night when there's no light
You try to give me quite a fright
First on my left, then on my right--
But you don't scare me at all.

Mr. Bumpy Man, with your wild red hair,
I hear you clumping up my stair,
But let me tell you, "I don't care!"
You don't scare me at all.

Mr. Bumpy Man, you're a jumpy man.
You hop atop my ceiling fan
And rattle everything you can,
But you don't scare me at all.

Mr. Bumpy Man, all night, all day
You try in every thumpy way
To scare me, but I have to say,
"You don't scare me at all!"

Mr. Bumpy Man, if you should steal
Into my room to make me feel
Afraid, I'll know that YOU'RE NOT REAL!
And you won't scare me at all.

Animal Crack-ups

If a bobcat bounces on your bed,
You'd better cover up your head,
Or maybe sleep elsewhere instead
If a bobcat bounces on your bed.

If a camel climbs the ivy vine
That twines between your roof and mine,
We'll say to him, "It is NOT fine
For you to climb our ivy vine!"

If a cheetah chews your cheddar cheese
And chomps your chips to taunt and tease,
Then tell him just to "Stop it, please!"
If a cheetah chews your cheddar cheese.

If a dromedary dares to drink
The water from your kitchen sink,
His hump will be quite full, I think,
If a dromedary dares to drink.

If an emu eats your scrambled eggs
While balanced on his scrawny legs,
Ignore him when he sits and begs
And say there's no more scrambled eggs.

If a furry fox knocks down your blocks
And tries on all your shoes and socks,
You just might get the chickenpox
If a furry fox knocks down your blocks.

If a gnu should gnaw your gnocchi soup,
Just ladle up another scoop
While whirling with a hula hoop
If a gnu should gnaw your gnocchi soup.

If a grizzly growls right in your face,
You'd better go some other place
Like maybe first or second base
If a grizzly growls right in your face.

If a hippo tiptoes through your house,
His huge feet quicker than a mouse,
He'll get applause and take his bows
If a hippo tiptoes through your house.

If a mountain lion licks your lunch
And giant molars start to crunch,
Just give him candy corn to munch
So he will leave alone your lunch.

If a parrot perches on your porch,
Then light a tiny tiki torch.
But oh! Be careful not to scorch
That parrot perching on your porch.

If a platypus should play
Piano on a holiday,
His F sharp might be flat, I'd say,
When webby feet get in the way.

If a sheep is shorn too short to shave
And hides, embarrased, in a cave,
He won't know quite how to behave
With fleece that's shorn too short to shave.

If a zebra zips your zither shut,
There'll be no music in your hut.
You could unzip the zither, but
The zebra likes it better shut.

Footnote:  Just a quick note here to explain how this fun, silly verse came about.  Last week I spent a night with Sooby and Pooh, and, as often happens, they both hopped in bed with me the next morning.  Also joining us was a stuffed elephant named "Ellie," that Pa-pa and I got as a baby shower gift in 1982 shortly before the kids' mother was born.  Handmade by one of Pa-pa's secretaries, a lovely, grandmotherly lady named Lucille, Ellie has survived the years quite well, and he is now a beloved staple in the lives of this new generation of children.

In the course of our play, one of the kids was making Ellie "dance," and I just randomly said, "If an elephant dances on your bed, you'd better cover up your head."  Throughout the morning, we kept brainstorming other rhyming "if-then" constructions involving various animals doing silly things.

I negotiated the late-night drive home with my mind pretty well stuck in this format.  As the poem evolved, I decided to use as much alliteration, assonance, and wordplay as possible; thus, the bouncing animal of the initial stanza morphed from an elephant into a bobcat in order to repeat the /b/ sound and preserve the basically iambic meter.  The other stanzas followed suit, and the rest is history.





 

On "Wonderment"

Let me begin with a little poem inspired by Beenie's arrival last week on the first day of spring.  And then, if you are so inclined, permit me to talk about it a little bit.  Forgive me, but I am in the mood to trip on that wonderful creative process that takes place when a writer gives birth to a poem such as this one.  I hope you will enjoy coming along.

      Wonderment

Sunlight slants strangely
against the north fence
today as faint scents
of lilac ride the air;

and that woodpecker
hammering vibrations
down the furnace pipe--
how long has he been there?

Have tulip petals always felt
of velvet?  Have they always smelt
of rain, and daffodils of earth?
Are strawberries sweeter this year?

Have I changed somehow?
Does some new miracle
surge within me now
that you are here?

That's it.  Four four-line stanzas that move from a basic observation to a series of questions that lead the poet to contemplate changes perceived both in the natural world and internally in response to the coming and influence of someone special.  But I totter on the verge of growing too technical here, so let me regroup. 

What I tried to achieve here is a simple love lyric that avoids the pitfall of triteness.  Athough it is specifically about the birth of my grandson, it wouldn't have to be.  For others, it could work just as easily in reference to any significant person who enters their life and changes their outlook for the better.  Hopefully, this gives the piece universality; that is, meaning for a variety of people in a variety of circumstances.  Depending on the situation, the "you" of Line 16 could be, among other things, a lover, a friend, or a long-lost relative just as easily as a new child or grandchild.

I have tried to avoid a sing-song texture by varying linear meter and making the rhyme irregular, subtle, and unobtrusive.  For example, if you look at the end words of the lines, you will find ten of the sixteen lines rhyming with another, but only randomly.  This, plus the other sound devices of alliteration (repeated initial consonant sounds in neighboring words) and assonance (repeated vowel sounds), should enhance the fluidity and the auditory interest of the piece when read aloud.

Finally, just a brief comment on imagery--the use of words that evoke the senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.  You should find references to all of these in the poems's first three stanzas, with Stanza 3 being the richest.  The concreteness afforded by this imagery sets the stage for the more abstract inner change ending the poem in Stanza 4.  Because imagery is based on sensory experiences shared and thus understood by human beings, poets depend on it to recreate feelings that readers can identify with.  In this piece, because of its timing and occasion, all the imagery is spring-related.

Enough.  If you have made it to this point, thanks for sticking with me.  I hope the short analysis helps you better understand and appreciate "Wonderment." 

When I was thinking about starting a blog a year ago, one of the topics I considered was poetry because I love it so much.  But in the end, I decided to base it on the grandkids because I love them more.  But upon occasion, a piece like this allows me to indulge my love for both.  That, my friends, is about as good as it gets.   




       

The Sheep in the Jeep

Sooby is into rhyming.  She loves for me to give her a word and ask her to come up with another word that rhymes with it.  It comes as no surprise, then, that last night, the bedtime story of choice was Dr. Seuss's beloved The Cat in the Hat.  When it comes to rhyme that wraps itself around an imaginative story line and tickles the ear of the typical preschooler, no one does it like Dr. Seuss.

However, in that precious interval of time that stretches itself between the reading and the tucking in, we took time to contemplate various other animals that Dr. Seuss might have chosen to write about instead of the mischievous cat in the red-and-white-striped stovepipe hat.  A goat in a coat?  Nah.  A pig in a wig?  We didn't think so.  A duck in a truck?  No, none of those seemed to be likely candidates.  But a sheep in a jeep?  In that one we saw potential.  It might go something like this:

        The Sheep in the Jeep

Since Mom wouldn't be home
'Til quarter past two,
Sally and I couldn't
Think what to do.

Then from the front door
We heard, "Beep, beep, beep!"
Until, crashing right through,
Came a sheep in a jeep!

How he splintered the wood
When he tore through the door!
How the tracks of his tires
Left black lines on the floor!

The motor would groan;
The transmission would whir,
And he left the room littered
With tufts of his fur.

He zoomed through the room.
He drove right up the couch,
Hit the floor upside down;
Then, that sheep bleated, "Ouch!"

He careened down the hallway,
And bounced off the walls;
Turned the sink in the bath
To Niagara Falls!

He drove up the curtain
And smudged up the glass.
Then he belched and the scent
Of his breath smelled like grass.

I hollered, "Whoa, you!"
And Sally said, "Hey!"
And our fish drew a deep breath,
Then fainted away.

Our fish was afraid
That our mom would take fright
When she looked at the mess
The sheep made in one night.

But this sheep was a smart one.
He carried in back
Of his jeep a big box.
In the box was a sack.

In the sack was a paintbrush
And putty and paste.
He put things back together
In admirable haste.

He laundered the curtains.
He ironed the lace.
He put all the stuff
He messed up back in place.

So all appeared normal
As Mom neared the door:
No sign of the jeep
And no fleece on the floor,

Not a thing out of place,
Not an object he broke,
And just at the right time
Our fishy awoke.

When Mom asked what kind
Of a time we had had,
I winked right at Sally
And said, "Not too b-a-a-a-d."

            Epilogue

Tho' The Cat in the Hat
Surely no one can equal--
The Sheep in the Jeep
Makes a good enough sequel!









  

A Poem Is Born

At some point during the past year or so, and for whatever reason,  I started saying to Sooby and Pooh, "I love you, love you, love you."  Gradually, I began to add qualifying descriptors, like "as tall as the mountains" and "as deep as the ocean."  The kids seemed to like these additions.  By the time I had done this enough to become aware of some kind of pattern forming, I had added "as wide as the sky," "as warm as the sun," and "as bright as the moon."

A couple days ago, when I was getting ready to leave the kids' house, I was making my way to what I thought was the end of our litany.  When I stopped, I couldn't figure out why both kids continued to look at me expectantly.  Then, barely above a whisper, Pooh prompted me:  "moon."  I had forgotten to include the line about the moon.

During the first leg of my three-hour drive home, a children's verse assumed the semi-permanent shape I give it below.  It fascinates me to think about how it evolved over days and weeks and months of my feeble efforts to make Sooby and Pooh understand how very much they are loved by this old Googie.

Like all poems, it seems to reflect a mishmash of the literary and musical experiences that somehow connect in the mysterious synapses of my brain.  Surely the ghost of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet 43 prompts me here, as does the new hit single of 2011 American Idol Scotty McCreery ("I Love You This Big"--check it out on YouTube).  "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" flashes briefly through a neuron, and that part about the strawberry--could I be indebted to the New Christy Minstrels for that?

At any rate, and for whatever reason, and in spite of myself, a poem is born containing DNA from all these genetic sources.  Maybe you will find it helpful should you ever try to explain to your grandkids how you really feel. 
        
I Love You Times Three
  
I love you late;
I love you soon:
As tall as the mountains,
As bright as the moon,
As deep as the ocean,
As warm as the sun,
As twinkly as stars
When the daytime is done.

I love you now;
I love you then:
I love you like puddles
Where raindrops have been.
I love you like breezes
Caressing the nights.
I love you like fireflies
With bright orange lights.

I love you here;
I love you there:
I love you like bird songs
That hang in the air
As sweet as strawberries,
As wide as the sky--
Could I love you more?
I think not--but I'll try.