Sarah Muddles and Other Home-Grown Poems by G.P. McGlynn        copyright mm                 

THE CELLAR DWELLER

Deep in the cellar
(Right behind my old trike)
There's a creature just waiting,
Just waiting to strike.

He's not green and slimey.
He's not ten feet tall.
He doesn't have horns,
Nor's he hairy at all.

He doesn't have claws
With sharp fangs to match.
He doesn't have scales
Nor an eye with a patch.

You must be quite curious
'Bout this creature (named Ken)
Well, it's just my big brother
Out to scare me again!

SARAH MUDDLES

Little Sarah Muddles
Loved deep brown puddles
And she loved big bells that go CLANG!

She loved little rocks
And warm fuzzy socks
And barber shop singers who sang.

Now, what was so special about sweet Sarah Muddles
(You may ask as you finish this poem)
I'm not sure, I reply, 'cause my mind has gone dry
And I think I just want to go home.