This Bird Does It

Librarian ramblings


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Twas the day before Thanksgiving…

Yeah, this is what I come up with when I don’t want to be writing for school. Here’s a little dream I had this Thanksgiving Eve. Enjoy!

Twas the day ‘fore Thanksgiving
And all through the land,
The people were scurrying to come up with a plan.
The news was on non-stop, crying violence and pain;
In hopes that folks could find victims to blame.
The stores were all busy, and tempers flew hot;
While visions appeared of deals to be got!
And kiddies in their pjs and I in my sweats;
Had just sipped the cocoa, as good as it gets!
When down in the basement arose such a ruckus,
I sprang from the couch to see what fuss is.
Off to the staircase I flew like a goof,
The kids were sure fighting and now I had proof!
The toys and the junk in the unfinished space,
Gave the illusion of mayhem, not a thing in its place!
When what to my screen weary eyes did appear?
But a clean little corner of holiday cheer.
With a sweet little cherub, so funny and cute,
And his brother and sister, both smart and astute.
They stood up and picked up and gathered the stuff,
The dolls and the robots, the cars; all enough!
To donate, to sell, to throw away, or just pitch,
They want it cleaned out and they just don’t care which!
To the top of the bookshelf, to the back of the trunk!
Now clean it up, sweep it up, pick up the junk!
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky;
So to the job, these children now turned,
With the dusting and sorting, oh my, they had learned!
And then in a twinkling, I felt such great joy.
They’d each like to donate a favorite toy!
As I sucked in my breath and felt ready to praise
Up the staircase they hurried, these children I’d raised.
They were dressed all in fleece, from their head to their feet
And the oldest’s top and bottom would just not quite meet.
A bin full of toys they were pulling behind,
And they looked like sweet elves, but still didn’t mind.
Their eyes, how they twinkled, their giggles, how funny!
They squeals were like music, their smiles so sunny!
The sweet little creatures moved as quick as the light
And they cleaned out the basement so nicely that night!
The piles of their toys that they knew they’d not need
Were just sitting and ready to be their good deed.
They’d sorted them carefully, marking by age
The dollies, the puzzles, that Minecraft game rage.
They were jolly and sleepy and sweetly alive
And I teared up when I saw them and tried not to cry.
A rub of their eyes, and a twist of their heads,
Soon gave me to know it was near time for beds.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work
I loaded the toys, they’d worked hard, I can’t shirk!
And driving to Goodwill as fast as I could,
I thought how I’d never believed that they would
Realize all their blessings and give something back.
But I must remember and not give them flack!
And I heard them but whisper as they started to doze:
“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom!”
They’re good kids, I suppose!

 

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My daughter, the poet

Ever think about all the things you can do with a pencil? Girlie did. The PTA Reflections contest theme this year is “Believe, Dream, Inspire.” My girl took that and wrote a poem. She won first place for 3rd and 4th grade Literature for her school. She goes to district from here. She thinks she’s going to win the national contest. I don’t know about that, but I know it’s the best poem I’ve ever read by a nine-year-old. Now that the school winners have been announced, I feel like we can share it. I think it’s amazing. Don’t you?images

The Pencil

A pencil, to me, is like the root system of a tree.
By inspiring me to write about anything and everything.
Helping me to draw a hero and their deeds.
Always believe, no matter how dark the future seems,
That with a pencil you can be anyone you want to be.
Did you ever consider how much a pencil really holds?
More than just a thread of wood, rubber, graphite, or lead.
It can be a singer, belting out beautiful things
but, this work of art can freak everybody out.
How it works magic in the hands of a famous novelist, or a
mathematician, or just a third grader. Or me!
Leonardo da Vinci or a college kid looking for a degree in art.
The Freedom Towers’ blueprint or a dollhouse’s.
Scientific data recording! Graphs! This poem!
The world would be dark and bleak without any pencils.
A pencil can be everything you want it to be,
that’s part of how it inspires me.
I believe in the pencil.
Use your power and find one.


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A good thought.

You Never Know
by Helen Lowrie Marshall

You never know when someone
May catch a dream from you
You never know when a little word
Or something you may do
May open up the windows
Of a mind that seeks the light—
The way you live may not matter at all,
But you never know—it might.

And just in case it could be
That another’s life, through you
Might possibly change for the better
With a broader and brighter view,
It seems it might be worth a try
At pointing the way to the right—
Of course, it may not matter at all,
But then again—it might.

 

I pulled that directly from another blog.  It is just such a good thought, I had to share it.  You JUST NEVER KNOW.  Live like you know for sure.  🙂