A great big slide I see.

4, 5, 6;
I do my climbing tricks.

7, 8, 9;
Still up and up I climb.

Then comes 10;

I slide back down again.

Thank you to auntnanny for the photographs. Poem by Donnell Allan.
(Click on the picture for credits.)
(Click on the picture for photo credits.)
I went to a park with my grandpa last week.
We walked there--a long, long way.
Grandpa spoke with me kindly as we went along,
And I thought of the place where I'd play,
I'd play, I'd play, I'd play,
And I thought of the place where I'd play.
Then we saw it! But first I got water to drink,
Grandpa helped, for the fountain was high.
Off alone then I went to explore all the toys,
As he watched from a place close by,
Close by, close by, close by,
As he watched from a place close by.
I ran and I climbed and I ran, then, some more;
Played and played on the swings and the slide.
But the best part with Grandpa was walking back home,
For he gave me his shoulders to ride,
To ride, to ride, to ride.
Grandpa gave me his shoulders to ride.
(Click on the picture for photo credits. Poem by Donnell Allan.)
"Baa," said the sheep,
Then "Baa," said the goat.
"Baa BAA," said the one, then the other.
Now wouldn't you think they would be best of friends
When they sound so much like each other?
(Click on the picture for photo credits. Poem by Donnell Allan.)
The sun comes up as day begins;
It shines upon my bed.
And as I wake a happy din
Of birdsong fills my head.
"Chir-ee!" "Chir-ee!" Bright music fills
The stillness of the morn.
"Wake up!" "Wake up!" The message trills,
"A brand new day is born!"
(Click on the picture for photo credits. Poem by Donnell Allan.)
I just love to talk on the phone
With my family, to anyone willing.
I choose Dad or Grandpa, my Grandma or friend,
Then I push the right button. It's thrilling!
As I talk I feel like I'm a grownup,
And not just a little kid playing.
It will be even better when those that I call
Will understand what I am saying.
(Please click on the picture for photo credits. Poem by Donnell Allan.)
Sometimes I'd like to be a cloud
Away up in the air,
And look down at the tiny trees
And houses from up there.
Then, looking at my mom and dad,
So small and far below,
I'd be their little boy again,
Because they love me so.
(Thank you to egg money for the photograph. Click on the photo for credits. Poem by Donnell Allan.)