Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amy Waters Jun 2014
A year is
a 365 day journey,
a long event,
a book of friends,
a roller coaster ride through time,
but once a year on June 29,
it's my day of fame --
Amy Waters Jun 2014
My hamster is
as smart as an inventor,
as friendly as a dog,
as fast as a race car,
as smart as a mouse
and as active as an athlete.
Amy Waters Jun 2014
A friend is an open hand
A friend is a happy land
A friend is a *** of gold
A friend is someone I can hold
A friend is a beautiful flower
A friend has a lot of power.
Amy Waters Jun 2014
A hand is like an open basket
waiting for you to put things in.
A foot is like a walking racket
stomp, stop, skip, jumpin.
A nose is like a high up mound
that you can climb and then slide down.
A mouth is like a funny clown
which makes us laugh and never frown.
Your eyes are like a fire
burning with desire.
Your mind is like a climbing wire
with every reach you go higher.
Amy Waters Jun 2014
A friend is like a mystery
still to be discovered
wanting to be figured out.

A friend is like a book
always very clever
waiting to be read.
Amy Waters Jun 2014
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high over valleys and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a cheerful company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For often, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Amy Waters Jun 2014
To market, to market to buy a fat pig,
and at the barber, I'll buy him a wig.
He has to be handsome, he has to be clean.

To market, to market to buy a fat horse,
with teeth in his mouth and legs of course.
I'll put him up front, in the garden that is,
when you come visit, you hardly can miss.

To market, to market to buy a fat cook,
with love in his heart and a crazy look.
He juggles with food, while drinking tea,
making dinner for horse, piggy and me.
This poem is a bit crazy and funny
Next page