“OOOhhh…my sole is sore!” said Lefty running slowly to his twin.
“Yeah…it’s my heel that suffers on these long….I mean LOOOOONG runs!” Righty was rubbing his heel with both ends of his laces.
“Why couldn’t we have been ‘walking’ shoes….but NOOOO!!!…
Or….or…bedroom slippers….yeah they’re the ones that have it easy.” Righty was moaning rather loudly now, his tongue flapping up and down.
“And the dirt…and the mud….we have to put up with that stuff too!” Lefty was whining also.
” I’ve got a small cinder stuck in the thirteenth track on my sole…but does she notice…I DON’T THINK SO!”
“And where IS the talc…I can’t even stand myself after one of these runs until I get my talc!”
Lefty and Righty were not happy as anyone could tell.
Then a small sad voice spoke from way back in the closet.
“You two…are…lucky!”
“Wha…huh?” Both of the running shoes turned to look back into the dark corner and saw an old scratched brown shoe with a broken heel.
“I NEVER get out anymore and….sniff… probably never will again.”
“Ah…well…cheer up old sole….ah….well….we can be friends and tell you all about what’s going on if you’d like.”
“Oh….would you….that would be….great. And do you think you could find some brown shoe polish and a cobbler that makes house calls?”
“Ah…not sure we can do anything about that pal.”
Then whispering to each other…”Lefty…I guess things could be a lot worse than they are. We should be happy doing what we were made for and try to do it the best we can instead of complaining!”
“Yeah…I guess you’re right.”
Then the door of the closet opened…and both running shoes smiled and sighed gleefully…”AH…the TALC!”

Now you may think that a skunk and a skink

Would have nothing to do with each other

But the two were friends as strange as that sounds

And behaved like sister and brother

The blue and red skink was quick as a wink

And loved to sit in the sun

But the skunk did his stinking and all of his thinking

Well after the day’s sun was done

You could easily tell that skinks do not smell

You’d never know for sure they’d been there

But not with a skunk for they surely stunk

‘Cause it takes hours to just clear the air

So why would these two pal around like they do

If they weren’t having a jolly good time?

‘Cause they needed a friend on whom to depend

And both wanted to be in this rhyme!

HELLO…Hello…hello…said Echo from the cave

She couldn’t but she wanted to… add a little wave

She also had to always….stay hidden from the view

And never ever speak unless she was spoken to

Though she lived in canyons, chambers and some far off hills

She never started conversations about her life on rocks and rills

Her role was to wait silently…of this she wasn’t fond

Because she had to hold her voice and only could respond

But Echo had a secret that she would never share

She whistles, yells and shouts a lot when no one else is there

A hummingbird was humming around

Making his smooth humming sound

While the canary was singing

Dulcet tones his throat bringing

Neither aware that the other’s around

Then the hummingbird sat on a limb

And the canary looked over at him

“Pardon me Chum Aren’t you the guy that can hum?”

“Yes and you’re the bird that sings on a whim!”

The canary felt somewhat dumb

Admitting that he wished he could hum

“Well I have no choice

I’ve no singing voice…

Oh I wish that I could sing some!”

“I’ll teach you to hum if you teach me to sing”

“Yes think of the joy we could both bring!”

So they each gave some lessons

But ended confessin’

That neither had learned anything!

“I guess I must do and I guess you must too…

Be happy for the talent we’ve got”

“So I’ll sing in the Spring”…

“And I’ll hum everything”…

“Can we be someone else?

I guess not!”

It was the middle of the night on a tiny farm in Placidville County and Dooley the Rooster was sleeping soundly when suddenly he awoke with a very sore throat. “I hope I’m not getting a cold” he thought to himself but since roosters can’t chew cough drops he just tried to go back to sleep hoping that he would get better before morning. After all, Dooley had his job to do as the official alarm clock of Small Town Farm. He couldn’t imagine what farmer Jones would think if Dooley didn’t crow in the dawn with his loud but scratchy “Cock A Doodle Doo”.

In fact sometimes Dooley was cock a doodle doodaling before Chester the rooster at the next farm would even be awake. Dooley heard that Chester was a bit lazy and though Dooley had never actually met Chester, the hens told Dooley that they had heard Chester wasn’t nearly as good at alarm clocking as Dooley.

But Dooley’s soreness kept getting worse and worse until when Dooley tried to clear his throat…nothing happened! No sound came out of his upturned beak…not even a whisper. “Oh My!” thought Dooley…because the sun was just inches from breaking above the Eastern horizon and his sore throat was as silent as a pile of dirt!

In two minutes the sun peaked its orange round head up over the Eastern fields and Dooley got up on the roof of the henhouse and threw back his head and opened his beak and tried as hard as he could but absolutely NO sound came out! Though Dooley tried and tried just silent air came out of his beak. Dooley attempted to Cock A Doodle Do for nearly an hour until he finally was so tired that he had to lie down on the roof shingles and he quickly fell asleep.

It was almost nine AM when Dooley woke up to the sound of farmer Jones yelling “DOOLEY…DOOLEY…what’s the matter with you rooster? We’ve all overslept because of you and the pigs didn’t get fed and the cows didn’t get milked and Ma Jones didn’t make me breakfast and…and…I’m really upset with you!”

Dooley tried to cackle down to farmer Jones but nothing came out again…but farmer Jones looked up to see Dooley trying to cackle or cluck or whatever roosters say when they aren’t Cock A Doodle Doodling and he said “Oh Dooley…have…you…LOST your voice?”

So Dooley pointed his right wing at his throat and tried again but just quiet air came out! Then off in the distance Dooley heard old Chester from the next farm over…crowing. “Lot of good that old rooster does crowing at 9 AM…But…well…at least Chester CAN crow.”

Dooley felt really sad now and slowly came down from his crowing place on the roof and farmer Jones picked him up and said…”Dooley…I think you have rooster laryngitis…I don’t know how long that lasts but I do have a great idea!”

Well, the farm day went by and then night time came and then all of the animals and farmer and Mrs. Jones went to bed and so did Dooley. About 4 AM Dooley woke up and tried out his Cock A Doodle Doodling voice but he still had rooster laryngitis or whatever farmer Jones called it, but as the sun peaked up over the Eastern fields Dooley remembered farmer Jones’ great idea…grabbed the battered old brass trumpet the farmer had given him and blew a song called ‘Reveille”.. Toot Toot Tooty Toot…and the lights went on in the farmhouse and the cows mooed and the pigs grunted and the hens cackled and the whole farm and EVEN the neighbor’s farm lit up and began their day right on time thanks to Dooley and his big brass trumpet.

Dooley eventually got his Cock A Doodle Doodling voice back but still blew the trumpet on special mornings…and Small Town Farm never woke up late again…EVER!

Is there really a guy named Jack Frost?
Whose job it is to crisscross
The northern states all
At the end of the fall
Making sure that summer is lost

I can see that he’s been around
In the morning I look on the ground
If there’s lots of white
He came by last night
But who knows where he can be found?

I don’t really believe in him
I think it’s just somebody’s whim
I mean where does he go?
Is the next guy Jack Snow?
His existence seems rather dim

Mom says it’s just an old tale
That he coats every hill and each dale
But I’d ensure early spring
When Jack Thaw does his thing
I’d put that Jack Frost in jail!

The day started out real nice
I was happy fresh and new
Brightly colored on my shell
That boiling thing was through

I was resting in a basket
With other eggs so fancy
We were placed there very carefully
By our 8 year old named Nancy

We jiggled ’round as we took a ride
To the grassy park in town
Then we each in turn were gently placed
And hidden on the ground

It was very hard to see beyond
Those real high blades of grass
But I felt very comfortable
As the time did pass

Then I heard the squealing children
Getting closer to my place
I saw as some went by me
I even saw their face

But they all passed and let me be
Maybe I’m too small
I have no arms to part the grass
No feet to help stand tall

Then the noises became distant
And soon no more were heard
“Hey anyone… Please find me!”
But I couldn’t speak a word

There was nothing I could do
To make myself be seen
And although I was brightly dyed
I was hidden by grass green

The sun went down and it got cold
And it was growing dark
The happy kids had long since gone
And left me in the park

All the other eggs were warm and safe
And happy they were found I bet
They were comfortable in their new homes
Being treated like a pet

But as I fought to stay upbeat
And pretend I’m in my bed
I spied a pair of familiar feet
“There you are!” my Nancy said

She picked me up and rescued me
She warmed me with her hand
She carried me back home with her
And put me on a stand

“I’m so glad that you weren’t found”
As she smiled and looked at me
‘Cause you’re my favorite one of all
The Easter eggs I see!”

I’ve got a place of honor
On the center shelf
We’re both happy that I wasn’t found
Nancy and myself

I have to go to the dentist today
And Boy, I just can’t wait
There are toys and games in the waiting room
It’s gonna be just great

They’ll be lots of other children there
Waiting for their turn
But I might just be the only one
Happy to return

I wasn’t smiling late last week
I had my back tooth drilled
And it didn’t feel much better
When I had to have it filled

But I’m looking forward to today
I’m as happy as can be
‘Cause today I’m not the patient
It’s my sister Melanie!

“Did you see that?…LOOK…he did it again!”
“What?…did I see what?…sorry I wasn’t looking just then Sam.”
“That human…there…see? Don’t tell me your eyesight is failing. All those carrots…IMPOSSIBLE!”
“Sorry Sam. What’s he doing?”
“He’s spraying something on OUR vegetable garden…THE NERVE!”
“Ah well…isn’t that HIS ..ah…garden …ah Sam?”
“Don’t get technical on me Clyde. He provides for us. Certainly WE can’t farm a garden. That’s what humans are for. That’s why God put them on earth!”
“Oh yes…well… I’m not sure the human sees it in just that way Sam.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right. They are such thick headed beings…humans.”
“Oh there he goes…now he’s getting the sprinkler, what an idiot! Doesn’t he know that’s gonna dilute the bug spray that he just sprayed on there?”
“Ah…well…isn’t that good for us Sam…that he’s washing our vegetables off?”
“Yeah…Clyde…good point! Oh …I can’t watch anymore. Let’s go over to Mr. Murphy’s garden while Dumkoff here squirts off our veggies!”
The two bunny pals hopped off behind the bramble bushes down to the next house which was 97 hops away.
“Keep your ears down Clyde. I don’t feel much like runnin’ right now…and I’m hungry. How ’bout you?”
“Yeah I could eat a whole row of lettuce…ummm yeah I could!”
When Sam and Clyde reached the edge of the Murphy garden, they looked and waited for two whole minutes…not moving.
Meanwhile, Mr. Murphy said to Marge his wife…”Look at this…there they are…see them on the edge of the garden over by the Johnson house?”
“Oh they’re so cute aren’t they? I just LOVE bunnies!” said Mrs. Murphy.
“Yeah well me too, but I do have to control how much of my garden that I let them eat. But it’s not too tough…they scare pretty easily!” commented Mr. Murphy.
After another minute or so Clyde nudged Sam…”Let’s go…nobody’s around!”
The two hungry rabbits moved into the last row of the Murphy garden where the Bibb lettuce was growing.
“Now remember Sam…just a few leaves from each head as we move along. We’ve gotta be stealthy and outsmart the old guy, otherwise he’ll get wise to our visits!”
“Gotcha!” Sam said with two green Bibb lettuce leaves already sticking out of his mouth. “Yum…I LOVE lettuce and of course carrots…oh yeah, and cabbage…and…”
“C’mon already…shut up and eat…we don’t wanna be here too long!”
The bunny buddies made their way down the row and when they got to the end…”OK…back to the hutch! Can’t take a chance of being seen. We’ll get back later for lunch.”
“Right!”
“Keep your ears down!”
“I know…I know.”
After they left, Mr. Murphy came out and walked down to the edge of his garden and looked over his Bibb lettuce.
“Amazing! Those rabbits helped themselves to my lettuce and I can’t even see any evidence that they were even here!”
Then Mr. Murphy’s neighbor Mr. Johnson called over. “Hey Ed. I saw some vermin rabbits in your garden. They’ll eat every vegetable you’ve got if you let ’em!”
“Oh I don’t mind. In fact, I grow extra lettuce and carrots for ’em…Marge thinks they’re cute!”
“Man…not me! They’ll destroy the whole place if you let ’em!” grumped Mr. Johnson.
“Well…you can send them over here if you want to!” smiled Mr. Murphy.
“I’ll send ’em to bunny heaven if I ever see ’em in my garden again!” promised Mr. Johnson shaking his fist in the air.
Fortunately Clyde and Sam had not reached their hutches and heard what Mr. Johnson said and never EVER went to his garden again and lived a very long and happy vegetarian bunny life.

The huge green bottomed and white topped cauliflower slammed the gavel as he (she?) stood behind the podium. “Everyone…PLEASE come to order…let’s get this annual conference of the Y.U.C.K. etc allegiance started.”
“You down there…M’s/Mr. Kale….please give your attention to the podium…must we have to discuss MANNERS this year as well as our annual theme… TASTE?”
“Now…the reason we are all here is the undeniable fact that MOST…thankfully not, ALL kids… absolutely positively HATE the way we vegetables taste!”
“Yeah!!” a brussels sprout roared from the balcony.
“Today’s agenda is a simple one…the question is How do we improve the way we taste to children? The Chairperson is now accepting suggestions from the floor.”
“Ah…Sir/Ma’am…what if we just tried to swim in lots of sauces and fool the kids?”
“You can’t easily fool kids…and we tried that two years ago and it hasn’t worked yet!”
“Ah…what about hiding under hamburgers or hot dogs or…”
“NO…they find us quickly like they’ve got radar or something…next idea.”
“Maybe we could spend money on a public relations campaign on TV kid shows.”
“Well…except for cabbage we don’t have any money…NEXT!!!”
“SUGAR!…We need sugar coatings like breakfast cereals have.”
“Hmmm…well…that might be the first suggestion reflecting serious thinking…let’s discuss this idea put forth by Mr./M’S Spinach.”
“IT WON’T WORK!”
“Who shouted that from out in the back row there?”
“Me!” The sweet potato responded. “Most kids don’t really like me and I yam the sweetest and maybe the healthiest vegetable here.”
“Ummm…good point….so …anyone else have a thought?”
Then a large brown potato spoke up…”Ah…I believe that I’m in an unusual position of being both hated and loved by kids depending on how I’m cooked. If I am French fried kids love me…otherwise I’m not very popular.”
“Good point potato…So what are we to deduce from this conference of Youngsters Unliking Cauliflower and Kale…etc.”
“That we really don’t know how to make kids love us and that we should try to hang around with adults as much as possible!”
“Resolved…Conference CONCLUDED! See you all next Spring!”