Once There Was A Tree, And She

I Tried On The Farmer's Hat, Didn't Fit. . . A Little Too Small - Just A Bit Too Floppy. . . . . I Tried On The Summer Sun, Felt Good. Nice And Warm - Knew It Would. Tried The Grass Beneath Bare Feet, Felt Neat. Finally, Finally Felt Well Dressed, Nature's Clothes Fit Me Best.

The Little Boy And The Old Man Said The Little Boy, "sometimes I Drop My Spoon." Said The 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.

I Would Hope That People, No Matter What Age, Would Find Something To Identify With In My Books, Pick One Up And Experience A Personal Sense Of Discovery. That's Great. But For Them, Not For Me.

If We Meet And I Say, "hi," That's A Salutation. If You Ask Me How I Feel, That's A Consideration. If We Stop And Talk Awhile, That's A Conversation. If We Understand Each Other, That's Communication. If We Argue, Scream And Fight, That's An Altercation. If Later We Apologize, That's A Reconciliation. If We Help Each Other Home, That's Cooperation. And All These Ations Added Up Make Civilization. (and If I Say This Is A Wonderful Poem, Is That Exaggeration?)

Teddy Said It Was A Hat, So I Put It On. Now Dad Is Saying, "where The Heck's The Toilet Plunger Gone?