Boots

There once was a boy and his boots
that picked up all the mud on his route.
When he walked inside
dirt fell with each stride.
His scolding was swift and acute.

Spelled

There once was a boy who spelled
a list every week practiced well.
From morning to knight
basketball, is that right?
By the look in Mom's eyes he could tell.

Bread

There once was a boy who ate bread.
One supper, five slices he said.
When the rest were not looking
he'd passed on the cooking
and ate all but the crusts instead.

Disagreed

There once was a boy who disagreed
with the bedtime his father decreed.
He put his foot down
held firm with a frown
but his case was paid little heed.

Shared

There once was a young boy who shared
with neighbors a macaroon pair.
He was sweet in the tooth
so his thanks was the truth
for they let him shoot hoops on their square.

First

There once was a boy with a thirst

to get upstairs to the bathroom first.

But running inside

is not bona fide.

So he brushed in a huff - the worst!

Read

There once was a boy who read

just scores and what players have said.

There's much more to know

if he'd only go

to the other news sections instead.

Dressed

There once was a boy who got dressed

after dark, before bed. It was best.

So when he arose

already in clothes

he was one step ahead of the rest.

Rabbit

There once was a girl and a rabbit.

One day, she could no longer have it.

The news was unwelcome

she wanted to tell them

but tears spoke enough of her sadness.

Spinach

There once was a boy who ate spinach

and his throat didn't burn or skin itch.

He didn't turn green

or rupture his spleen

but he did get dessert when he finished.

Scratched

There once was a boy who got scratched.

It hurt for a bit, even patched.

So he slept through the night

with his stuffed owl held tight.

When he woke the ow was dispatched.

Tackle

There once was a boy who tackled

then he woofed, and pranced and cackled.

In every game he won

'cause it was one-on-none.

Just a show for the crow and grackle.

Grunt

There once was a boy who grunted

in your face, just for fun, if he wanted.

To him, it was sport

to give you a snort

but not us. We just felt affronted.

Washed?

There once was a boy so quick

he could wash his hands in a tick.

At least, that's what he said

but when he reached for the bread

even the crustiest slice cried, "Ick!"

"Well ..."

There once was a young boy from Lincoln

who said, "Well ..." every time he was thinking.

When the bedroom turned dark

his questions would spark

and flow out like a faucet to sink in.