The Stomach Storm: A Children’s Poem

‘Cause writing a silly poem is the best response to 2 am tummy bugs…  

Upon the arrival of the Stomach Storm

and lest we climb Mt. Doom,

we attacked the land with broom in hand

and Lysol weapons, too.



We sailed the sea of Bubble Bath

and towel-clad began

the ascent of Mt. Laundry,

at it’s highest since the world began.



We prepared to imbibe

that blessed drink,

elixir for the storm,

’tis called Ginger Ale

I think, in its sparkly form.



And slowly sunny skies appeared

o’er the land of Tummy,

the noxious gases disappeared

and soon again our suppers will be yummy.


Little Joe Plays Peek-a-Boo

This poem is dedicated to the children of my close friend, who recently suffered an early miscarriage, shortly after the joy of discovering she was expecting another little one. They feel quite sure he was a boy, and have named him Joseph, just like my little Josephine. I’m sure they’re playing together right now.

As Dr. Seuss says, “A person’s a person, no matter how small,” and there is no one too small to be honoured here in Crazy Land, so here is a little poem, with love.


Little Joe Plays Peek-A-Boo

Little Joe plays peek-a-boo,
he pops up his smiling head
just long enough to blow a kiss
then to his heavenly bed

He snuggles down
his golden crown
of angel’s softest thread
sweetly woven and gently placed
upon his tiny head

And in between his pleasant dreams
he gazes down at you
and smiles to see
bravely carrying on
the hearts who love him true

And if the tears come
now and then
don’t worry or feel shame
your little brother gathers them
like precious jewels
and with them writes your name

Speak to him softly
he hears you
oh so close though he seems far
for between hearts that love each other
there is no gate or bar

Your Joseph keeps the windows open
and the latch upon the Heavenly door
is open ever ready
for when you all come Home
once more