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 --
Hooray!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The buzzing of the bees,
The flitter- twitters of the butterflies,
The cuckoo of the roster and
The oinking of the pigs.

The ringing of the doorbells,
The beeping of the alarm,
The fizzing of the soft drinks and
The sizzling of the hot oil.

Lots of people love their dogs,
weirder people love their frogs,
there are lots and lots of pets out there,
many which don't even have hair!

You could get a parrot now,
or if you had the space - a cow.
You could get yourself a bald eagle,
(even though it's totally illegal).

People will sell you any pets,
even ones that like it wet,
pets are funny, pets are neat,
but please kids,
stop throwing your pets in the streets.

Don't hit the chicks with claw hammers,
you're not "making it even", it's just bad manners.
Don't put the cats tail in paper shredder,
there's no way it'll make him look or feel better.

Don't strangle your owl,
with a towel.
Don't hang your goose,
with a noose.

Avoid these sick and twisted things,
in fact, avoid pets - just go play on the swings.

There's something missing in my home,
I feel it day and night.
I know it will take time and strength,
before things feel quite right.

But just for now I need to mourn,
my heart - it needs to mend.
Though some may say it's just a pet,
I know I've lost a friend.

You've brought such laughter to my home,
and richness to my days.
A constant friend through joy or loss,
with gentle loving ways.

Companion, pal and confidant,
A friend I won't forget.
You'll live for always in my heart,
my sweet forever past.

Pink is the color of warm embrace,
a kiss from Grandma,
a baby's face.
A wash of color on a sunset sky,
a flush of fever,
a happy sigh.
A cozy cuddle on a cool afternoon,
fragrant blossoms,
a song-bird's tune.
Pink is all puffy, and happy, and proud,
bright as the sun,
soft as a cloud.

"There's a train at 4:04," said Miss Jenny,
"Four tickets I'll take; have you any?"
said the man at the door.
"Not four for 4:04,
For four for 4:04 is too many."

There once was a baby named Lou
And he grew and he grew and he grew
And he grew and he grew
And he grew and he grew,
But he stopped when he reached six foot two.