Ode to Shel Silverstein
Your poetry about boys and trees
was written of such quality
Not to sappy, no dry heaves
just little hands and lots of leaves
on Saturday I acted sick
and then confessed a dirty trick!
What's that? What's that you say?
I think I did go out and play!
I thought about being eaten by a snake
wrapped around me I could not shake
and, oh, the wierd bird who flew north
brough some guffaws and snickers forth
And wow, you wrote a Boy named Sue?
it wasn't Cash, I never knew!
And never in your poetry book
did I read your writings for Dr. Hook!
My mind was quite well blown
You wrote "Cover of the Rolling Stone"!
So, Shel, I hope someday we will be friends
come the day my sidewalk ends.