Champion weeds

Hi everyone,

Haven’t found time yet to write an original poem inspired by weeds, but for now I can at least offer an oldie. “Weeds” came out in 1994 in THE BOY WHO COUNTED STARS, the same book that included “A Brief Romance.” Here it is.


Said Mrs. Towers to Mr. Reeds,

“Why do you water those wretched weeds?

Said Mrs. Reeds, “Well don’t you know

That blue-ribbon weeds need water to grow?

Said Mrs. Towers to Mr. Reeds,

“I’ll give you some blue-ribbon flower seeds

If you’ll promise to pull those weeds and make room

For lovely blue-ribbon flowers to bloom.”

Said Mr. Reeds, with a rasping wheeze,

“Flowers make me sniff and sneeze,

So I yank them up and throw them out

To give my weeds more room to sprout.
And he said with pride, “As you can see,

No one grows better weeds than me.

I’ll never waste my time on flowers,”

Said Mr. Reeds to Mrs. Towers.

And I’m sure you’ve heard that Mr. Reeds

Won ten blue ribbons for his champion weeds.

(c) 1994 David L. Harrison, all rights reserved

A visitor from the past

Hi everyone,

For no particular reason, this morning I woke up thinking about a poem I wrote more than twenty-five years ago in a book called THE BOY WHO COUNTED STARS. Among the comments to my blog and Facebook posts yesterday, someone mentioned that book so that must have triggered the memory. Anyway, for what it’s worth, here’s the poem, “A Brief Romance.” Also, for what it’s worth, I can’t get rid of the column of numbers running down the left margin, another frustration thanks to the recent overhaul by .

“Oh Mistress Hen,
Won’t you let me in?”
The fox asked
With a foxy grin,
But the hen said, “I’m too clever.”

“I love you so,”
He murmured low,
“Just one little squeeze,
And then I’ll go,”
But the hen just cackled, “Never!”

“Don’t make me blue,
My sweet Baboo,
I’d do anything for you,”
But the hen said, “No you wouldn’t.”

“My knees are weak,
I can scarcely speak,
I long to kiss
Your lovely beak,”
And the hen said, “I just couldn’t.”

He winked and smiled,
“My darling child,
I’ll only stay
A little while,”
And the hen said, “We really shouldn’t.”

At last the hen
Let the fox come in,
And no one knows
What happened then,
Though it only took a minute.

I can only say,
When she hopped away,
Her tummy was round
And it made her sway,
And I think the fox was in it.

(c) 1994 David L. Harrison

Read me a story

Hi everyone,

Thank you to Tim Rasinski for posting a poem of mine today on his World Read Aloud Day post. “Read Me a Story” first appeared in 1994 in THE BOY WHO COUNTED STARS and has been anthologized a couple of other times I can think of. I’m grateful to Tim for bringing it out for another curtain call.