Poetry is Writing!
Some people don’t like poetry, and others adore it. For me, I used to hate it, but I have come to realize that it is just as much writing as all the other things I do. There are many famous poets, such as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Henry Van Dyke, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Not all poetry has to be serious, although a lot of it is. But Edward Lear and Robert Louis Stevenson have given us another kind of poetry to read.
All this to say that I hope that you like some of the poems that I have written below.
Cheers,
Katie Jo
Frizzy Hair
By Katherine Fears
The waiter who waited on Lizzie,
Had never met such hair so frizzy.
It made her head spin,
As if in a tin,
Then fell into Dizzy ‘o Lizzie!
The Man who Couldn’t Say “No!”
By Katherine Fears
There was once a man from Worcester,
Who never was called mister.
He never said no,
For he really didn’t know.
But one day he finally did stir!
Boxcar Children
By Katherine Fears
Boxcar Children are great;
Henry, Jessie, Violet, Benny.
Always together as mates,
And always having fun times the many.
So, as that would say and enjoy,
As they would shout together and say,
“Mystery ahoy!”
The Months
By Katherine Fears
These are the months,
So beautiful, so happy.
These are the months,
So un-zappy!
January is a month of cold,
Of winter, of snow.
This is the month of woe,
For everything is so cold.
This is February,
So strange, yet full of love.
Come join the wary,
Each day is like a dove.
March, so green!
Yet very experienced and fun.
Everybody has always won
In this month of fun.
April is showery,
But followed with flowers.
So beautiful, so merry!
Let’s not be wary,
In the month of April.
May, May, May!
Let’s be gay!
For it has come as flowers,
So pretty, so beautiful
As is a lily.
June begins the summer.
And soon it will be blazing,
For the month of July is on its way.
So be gay.
July, how hot!
Let’s go for a swim.
It’s so hot, you feel like a dot!
But never fear!
For summer is to the end.
August the last month,
Of hot, sunburnt days.
School is on the way,
Summer is almost gone.
September brings fall,
But don’t treat it like a wall.
Where did vacation go?
It ran like a doe.
October has birthdays,
Soon to come Thanksgiving,
And Halo’s in ween.
Here comes November,
How cold and dreary it seems.
But lettuce the thanks come out!
For God is good.
December how bleak,
But happy at Christ’s birth.
How mirth at birth,
And here is a new year.
