{Literary Thursday} Shel Silverstein

       I awoke this morning and realized I did not have any finished literature to review for my blog! What a predicament. As recollections of all the old books I've devoured turned over in my mind, I rolled over in bed and spotted Shel Silverstein's A Light in the Attic lying peacefully on my bedside table. I'm not sure about you, but I am always on the lookout for something to exercise the child in me - ahem, no. I am not pregnant - and Silverstein's words and illustrations always do the trick. So I sat down with my puppy Oscar and tried to read him some poems. He just wanted to eat the book. Nevertheless, here's some material to brighten your day!

Wild Strawberries

Are Wild Strawberries really wild?

Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child?

Should you pet them, or let them run free where they roam?

Could they ever relax in a steam-heated home?

Can they be trained not to growl at the guests?

Will a litterbox work or would they leave a mess?

Can we make them a Cowberry, herding the cows,

Or maybe a Muleberry pulling the plows,

Or maybe a Huntberry chasing the grouse,

Or maybe a Watchberry guarding the house,

And though they may curl up at your feet oh so sweetly,

Can you ever feel that you trust them completely?

Or should we make a pet out of something less scary,

Like the Domestic Prune or the Imported Cherry,

Anyhow, you've been warned and I will not be blamed

If your Wild Strawberry cannot be tamed.

The Little Boy and the Old Man

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."

Said the little old man, "I do that too."

The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."

"I do that too," laughed the little old man.

Said the little boy, "I often cry."

The old man nodded, "So do I."

"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems

Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."

And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.

"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

Rock 'N' Roll Band

If we were a rock 'n' roll band,

We'd travel all over the land.

We'd play and we'd sing and wear spangly things,

If we were a rock 'n' roll band.

If we were a rock 'n' roll band,

And we were up there on the stand,

The people would hear us and love us and cheer us,

Hurray for that rock 'n' roll band.

If we were a rock 'n' roll band,

Then we'd have a million fans.

We'd giggle and laugh and sign autographs,

If we were a rock 'n' roll band.

If we were a rock 'n' roll band,

The people would all kiss our hands.

We'd be millionaires and have extra long hair,

If we were a rock 'n' roll band.

But we ain't no rock 'n' roll band,

We're just seven kids in the sand

With homemade guitars and pails and jars

And drums of potato chip cans.

Just seven kids in the sand,

Talkin' and wavin' our hands,

And dreamin' and thinkin' oh wouldn't it be grand,

If we were a rock 'n' roll band.

Nobody

Nobody loves me,

Nobody cares,

Nobody picks me peaches and pears.

Nobody offers me candy and Cokes,

Nobody listens and laughs at my jokes.

Nobody helps when I get in a fight,

Nobody does all my homework at night.

Nobody misses me,

Nobody cries,

Nobody thinks I'm a wonderful guy.

So if you ask me who's my best friend, in a whiz,

I'll stand up and tell you that Nobody is.

But yesterday night I got quite a scare,

I woke up and Nobody just wasn't there.

I called out and reached out for Nobody's hand,

In the darkness where Nobody usually stands.

Then I poked through the house, in each cranny and nook,

But I found somebody each place that I looked.

I searched till I'm tired, and now with the dawn,

There's no doubt about it - 

Nobody's gone!

Thumb Face

There is a face upon my thumb - 

I did not paint it there - 

With pointy ears and winky eyes

And greenish bristly hair.

I keep it hidden from my friends

So that they will not stare.

It has a little twisty mouth,

And yellow teethies, too.

It snickers when I hold my fork,

It giggles when I'm blue,

And laughs and laughs and laughs

At everything I try to do.

Happy...doing strange things.