Tag Archives: rhyme

The Dolly with No Head

Let me tell you a story that will fill you with dread.
A tale of the dolly who had no head.
A horrible creature that haunts in the night.
If you were to see it, would give you a fright.

A dastardly tale of lies and deceit.
A memory I’ve tried to keep fairly discrete.
As not to revive those visions I feared.
As not to have people think I am weird.

This dolly, you see, was missing its head.
And somehow it chose to live under my bed.
I never knew, ‘twas it a girl or a boy?
Just a horribly, frightfully, disfigured toy.

Why this dolly picked me, I never quite knew.
Surely there was some other kid who was due,
to have his room haunted, to be filled with fear.
By this dolly who seemed to never appear.

T’was never a sight for my frightful wide eyes.
Looking under the bed seemed profoundly unwise.
So I’d leap to the mattress, climb under the spread.
To avoid being grabbed by the dolly with no head.

So how did I know that this dolly existed?
I’ll tell you the story, beware it’s quite twisted.
I was told by my brother’s that the dolly was there.
Living under my bed and that I should beware!

Then one night I mustered up all of my grit.
With the biggest flashlight my hands would permit.
I entered my room which was darker than black.
I turned on the flashlight, to deter an attack.

Then I crouched on the floor and with chattering teeth,
I inched toward my bed and I peered underneath.
Alas, nothing scary was there to be seen.
From the front to the back or the space in between.

So this moral I learned, you shouldn’t ignore.
What you hear from your siblings is probably lore!
There’s likely no truth to what they have said.
Especially if it involves a dolly with no head!

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A Ghostly Tale

Our old house is sometimes creaky.
Sometimes noisy, sometimes squeaky.
We love it still with all its quirks.
So long as all the plumbing works.

We live there happily undaunted.
Although we’re told the house is haunted.
Our guess is that it’s just a hoax.
Though spirits are elusive folks.

There’s a story ‘bout a ghost that’s told.
She harkens from a time of olde.
We think her name is Abbie Hill.
Albeit we haven’t seen her still.

See, Mrs. Hill and her loving spouse.
They used to own this big old house.
They built it as their family grew.
Way back in Eighteen-Ninety-Two.

Now why she’d rather stick around,
than head off where she should be bound.
The answer, surely no one knows.
But this is how the story goes.

The previous owners told this tale.
To us, before we closed the sale.
They saw her at their kitchen table.
They swore this story was no fable.

She sat there in a kitchen chair.
A fancy bun up in her hair.
She wore a nineteenth-century dress.
Her image had a slight fluoresce.

Then just as fast as she’d appeared.
Her ghostly apparition cleared.
It took all of their common sense.
To explain this strange experience.

Then one night as the wife was sleeping.
She awoke to find the ghost was peeping,
at her, as she lay in bed.
A sight that filled her up with dread.

But this ghost seemed not to bear ill-feeling,
as she played this game of brief revealing.
Then with a touch of Laissez Faire.
She vanished quickly in the air.

So when we heard this new disclosure.
We had to keep our strict composure.
We loved this house with all our might.
Why worry about a ghostly sight?

We bought the house with nervous laughter.
And moved our stuff in shortly after.
Wondering then, to what extent,
We’d see our ghostly resident.

But so far she has not presented.
Apparently she’s quite contented.
To share this house on old Brown Road.
This home with which we’ve been bestowed.

And now we’ve lived here many years.
Shared smiles and laughs and hugs and tears.
Regardless if we’re rich or poor.
We hope we’ll live here many more.

And if our ghost decides to show.
In all her radiance and glow.
I guess we’ll have to let her stay.
To haunt us for another day!

Most of you have read the full Ghost Story here!  If you’d like to read more about Abbie Hill, check out the link! 🙂

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From ONE to TEN

I once thought that ONE was enough.
Me by myself with only my stuff.
But I met a nice girl and love it was true.
We had a big wedding and then we were TWO.

We once thought that TWO was okay.
She and I hanging out every day.
But we drove by a sign that said, “kittens for free!”
We took home a kitten, and then we were THREE.

We once thought that THREE was not bad.
There wasn’t anybody we wanted to add.
But then we decided to get just one more.
A friend for our cat and then we were FOUR.

We once thought that FOUR was just fine.
One cat was her’s and one cat was mine.
One day a beautiful baby arrived.
A sweet little girl, and then we were FIVE.

We once thought that FIVE was alright.
Though space was getting a little bit tight.
But we wanted to add one more kid to the mix.
Along came a boy and then we were SIX.

We once thought that SIX would suffice.
Not a bird or a hamster or a snake would entice.
Then we decided two dogs would be great.
We skipped over SEVEN and went straight to EIGHT.

We once thought that EIGHT would be plenty.
At least it was only eight and not twenty.
Then one of our dogs, she went up to heaven.
Suddenly we were back down to SEVEN.

We once thought that SEVEN would be ample.
Add any more and we’d surely be trampled.
“Would you like two goats” asked a friend of mine?
We took home the goats and then we were NINE.

We once thought that NINE was tidy and neat.
Though we were looking for something to make us complete.
Our daughter liked riding a horse now and then.
So we bought her a horse and then we were TEN.

For now we think TEN is all we can handle.
If we grow any bigger it would sure be a scandal.
But someday we may add some more, I suppose
Then we’ll have to start counting on our fingers AND toes!

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Goats in Coats

Once upon a time there were goats that wore coats.
But these weren’t just any ordinary goats.
These were goats that had a story to tell.
Goats whose lives were terribly swell.

One goat was named Naughty and he was all white.
He seemed always hungry, ate everything in sight.
The other named Heath was a little bit smaller.
But his two large horns made him quite a bit taller.

These goats, they lived with a very nice lady.
In a beautiful place, both sunny and shady.
But one day the lady, she became very ill.
Nothing would cure her, not even a pill.

She said to her friend who owned the horse farm.
Please take my goats and keep them from harm.
Her friend said, “why yes, I’ll take them of course.”
“They’ll have a nice life and be friends with my horse.”

So these goats, they moved into their new place.
It was a beautiful farm, they had lots of space.
But the farm, it bordered a very busy street.
And goats being goats, they just wanted to eat.

They ate from the apple trees out by the road.
They ate almost all the way to the very next zip code.
They ate from the grass as cars would drive past.
They got into the traffic, they weren’t going to last!

One day a neighbor, she called the police.
“Those goats in the road, that just has to cease!”
She yelled and she screamed and she started to swear.
“Those goats chased my husband in his wheelchair!”

There was no other choice, the goats had to leave.
So the horse farm and it’s neighbors could have a reprieve.
When my wife, she heard that the goats would be sold.
She, said “we’ll take ‘em to our humble abode”.

The goats, once again, they would have a new home.
A farm where they’d have lots of space they could roam.
A farm on Brown Road where they’d start their new life.
With me and my kids and my lovely wife.

We built the goats a nice home in our horse stalls.
‘Cause winter was coming with its snow and its squalls.
We gave them some shavings, some straw and some grain.
And fed them some treats including chow mein.

The goats they were happy, they settled right in.
But winter was rearing its big, ugly chin.
The temperatures were getting closer to freezing.
We sure didn’t want our goats to be sneezing.

So my wife, she got out the farm catalogs.
And paged past the products for horses and dogs.
There on page twenty she found stuff for goats.
And lo and behold they stocked plenty of coats.

She ordered the coats, and said “ship a.s.a.p.”
The coats had to come all the way from Tennessee.
We all crossed our fingers that UPS would deliver.
As we looked out the window and watched the goats shiver.

A few days later, a package arrived.
We breathed a sigh of relief, our goats would survive.
We dressed them up nicely in their smashing new coats.
To help them adjust we gave them some oats.

Those goats they looked darling, all dressed to a tee.
But there was a problem we didn’t foresee.
The neighbors, they whispered, “goats don’t need clothes.”
“Not in the summer or the fall or when the ground’s froze.”

They chuckled and gossiped and thought we were nuts.
“Goats have fur”, they said, “from their heads to their butts”.
“In the winter, their fur gets quite a bit thicker.”
“Your goats are in coats, you must be a city slicker.”

But we liked our goats coats, and they seemed so contented.
So even though our neighbors dissented.
We kept our goats dressed in their fabulous coats.
‘Cause when it comes to our pets we only count our votes.

So this story, to all of you, I bequeath.
This wonderful story of Naughty and Heath.
A story of two of the wonderfullest goats.
Who are happy in winter to be wearing their coats.

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