William and the Train

This poem was written especially for an awesome kid named William! His mom, Kiah, won the official Mother Streusel Facebook Contest. Congratulations to them both!

Mother Streusel

William sat quietly

Doing puzzles with a cat,

When he heard a funny sound

Go rat-a-tat-a-tat.

Mother Streusel

It wasn’t like a drum.

It didn’t sound like rain,

But when he heard the whistle,

He knew it was a train.

Mother Streusel

Sure enough a train arrived

Just a moment later,

Puffing smoke and shiny red.

He’d never seen one greater.

Mother Streusel

‘Get in!” the conductor cried,

“And help us if you can.

We need someone to drive this train,

And you are just the man.”

Mother Streusel

William hopped aboard.

He heard the engine sputter.

“How do you make it go?” he asked.

“Just feed it peanut butter.”

Mother Streusel

There never was a train like that!

The more peanut butter fed

The faster it would go,

And down the track it sped.

Mother Streusel

A hundred miles an hour

A thousand, a million!

No one drove that peanut butter

Train better than William.

Mother Streusel

How could William make that train

Do what it could do?

I guess he understood it.

He liked peanut butter, too!

© 2014 Karyn Linnell

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The ABC’s

        Mother Streusel

I told my little brother,

“Now that you are three

It’s time for me to teach you

About A, B and C.”

Mother Streusel

He said, “I know those letters.”

I asked, “Do you indeed?”

He said, “Of course I do.

I can even read.”

Mother Streusel

I decided I would test him.

I figured he was lying.

“A is for…” “Banana,”

He answered without trying.

Mother Streusel

“A is for banana?

It certainly is not!”

“B-A-n-A-n-A.

Yep. Three A’s, like I thought.”

Mother Streusel

“No, A is for apple.”

“But apple just has one.

There’s more A’s in banana,

And now can we be done?”

Mother Streusel

“No, let’s do B now.”

“Okay. Flibbertigibbet.

There’s no word that I know of

With more B’s to exhibit.”

Mother Streusel

I nearly lost my temper

But I thought, “He’s only three.”

I took a breath and tried again

With the letter C.

Mother Streusel

“I’ll try to ask a different way

So you’ll know what I mean.

Can you tell me what ‘Car’ starts with?”

He said, “Yes, with gasoline.”

© 2014 Karyn Linnell

The Siren of the Garden

Mother Streusel

The beauty of the ocean

The mermaid, is a flirt,

But the siren of the garden,

The wormaid, lives in dirt

Mother Streusel

She swims through the soil

She dives between the rocks

Her home is Compost Cove

Where she combs her wormaid locks

Mother Streusel

All the worms adore her

They listen for her song:

“Banana peels and rotting pears

We’ll feast on them till dawn!”

Mother Streusel

A goddess of the underearth

A soil-sodden queen

The legendary wormaid

Half-worm and half-sardine

© 2014 Karyn Linnell

The Vanity of Animals

(Another great suggestion for a poem from Michelle. Thank you again. By the way, did you know that the narwhal’s “horn” is actually a giant overgrown canine tooth? I didn’t until today!)

Mother Streusel

A rather stuffy narwhal

Often found it hard to smile.

The holes in his hats

Were really not in style.

Mother Streusel

“I must cover my baldness.

It’s quite the thing to do,

But this blasted horn

Is always poking through.”

Mother Streusel

A posh and proper hippo

With lots of girth and muscle

Was having a fitting

For a rear-enhancing bustle.

Mother Streusel

“On the river this spring

All the hippos will wear them,

And I must be the best

When we look to compare them.”

Mother Streusel

An elegant giraffe

Performed a double check

On the forty-seven necklaces

Dangling from her neck.

Mother Streusel

“Don’t my jewels look lovely?”

She asked in tones elated.

“Just a few more perhaps

To look more elongated.”

Mother Streusel

From a narcissistic narwhale

To a neck-obsessed giraffe,

The vanity of animals

Ought to make one laugh.

© 2014 Karyn Linnell

Belts

   Mother Streusel

I’m having a dilemma

And need some help please!

If I don’t wear a belt

My pants fall to my knees

And if I wear a belt

It’s so tight I will pop

I can hardly breathe

And I have a muffin top

Mother Streusel

I try to adjust it

To get the belt just right

But every setting seems to be

Too loose or tight

I’ve tried each type of belt

Leather, cloth and plastic

I thought I solved my problem

When I tried elastic

Mother Streusel

Until that belt stretched out

It was quite immodest

My pants fell down at school

And they sent me to the office

The principal looked stern

I didn’t have a chance

I trembled as I stood

Holding tightly to my pants

Mother Streusel

He said, “I have decided

The verdict to be rendered

Is for you to be

Immediately suspendered.”

Love

     Mother Streusel

Mother Streusel

My love for you is like a star

Sparkling and spangled

Like octopus’s tentacles

My heart is all a tangled

Mother Streusel

Mother Streusel

My love for you is like a fruit

Perfectly we’re peared

My love is like a spiderweb

I have been ensnared

Mother Streusel

Mother Streusel

My love is like a sparrow

My heart is always singing

My love is like a monkey

With all the joy I’m flinging

Mother Streusel

My love for you is like a mirror

It makes me see so clearly

My love is like a bulldog’s bite

I hold onto you dearly

Mother Streusel

My love is nothing like an owl

I am not asking hoo

My love is like caller ID

I already know it’s you

Hats

Mother Streusel

I always wear a hat

Each day of the week

Because of all the food that

My hats will let me sneak

Mother Streusel

My top hat at the movies

Can keep popcorn secluded

And porkpie hats are excellent

For all pies, pork included

Mother Streusel

At the bowling alley

My bowler hat hides fries

So I don’t have share them

With any other guys

Mother Streusel

Homburgs hide my hamburgers

Beanies hide my beans

Bananas in my Panama

My green eyeshade’s for greens

Mother Streusel

Akubra to zucchetto

Snacks and feasts and meals

I never have to leave behind

The food my hat conceals

Mother Streusel

While I don’t go hungry

The one downside is that

Folks look at you funny

When you eat out of a hat

© 2014 Karyn Linnell