“One sister for sale,One sister for sale,One crying and spying young sister for saleI'm really not kidding so who'll start the biddingDo I hear a dollar?A nickle?A penny?Oh isnt there isnt there isnt there anyOne person who will buy this sister for saleThis crying spying old young sister for sale.”
“One day he said, "I'll tell this townHow it feels to be an unfunny clown."And he told them all why he looked so sad,And he told them all why he felt so bad.He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,He told of Darkness in his soul,And after he finished his tale of woe,Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,They laughed until they shook the trees...And while the world laughed outside.Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.”
“MagicSandra’s seen a leprechaun,Eddie touched a troll,Laurie danced with witches once,Charlie found some goblins gold.Donald heard a mermaid sing,Susy spied an elf,But all the magic I have knownI've had to make myself.”
“The Little Boy and the Old ManSaid 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 seemsGrown-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.”
“An oak tree and a rosebush grew,Young and green together,Talking the talk of growing things-Wind and water and weather.And while the rosebush sweetly bloomedThe oak tree grew so highThat now it spoke of newer things-Eagles, mountain peaks and sky."I guess you think you're pretty great,"The rose was heard to cry,Screaming as loud as it possibly couldTo the treetop in the sky."And now you have no time for flower talk,Now that you've grown so tall.""It's not so much that I've grown," said the tree,"It's just that you've stayed so small.”
“I said, "I'll take the T-bone steak."A soft voice mooed, "Oh wow."And I looked up and realizedThe waitress was a cow.I cried, "Mistake--forget the the steak.I'll take the chicken then."I heard a cluck--'twas just my luckThe busboy was a hen.I said, "Okay no, fowl today.I'll have the seafood dish."Then I saw through the kitchen doorThe cook--he was a fish.I screamed, "Is there anyone workin' hereWho's an onion or a beet?No? Your're sure? Okay then friends,A salad's what I'll eat."They looked at me. "Oh,no," they said,"The owner is a cabbage head.”
“If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.A crumb of cake would be a feastAnd last you seven days at least,A flea would be a frightening beastIf you were one inch tall.If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,And it would take about a month to get down to the store.A bit of fluff would be your bed,You'd swing upon a spider's thread,And wear a thimble on your headIf you were one inch tall.You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.You'd run from people's feet in fright,To move a pen would take all night,(This poem took fourteen years to write--'Cause I'm just one inch tall).”