There was a young lady named Bright,
Who traveled much faster than light,
She set off one day,
In a relative way,
And arrived the previous night.
I saw a man upon the stair.
I saw him, but he was not there.
I didn't see him again today.
Oh, how I wish he'd go away.
This one was supposedly written by a young girl of around 12 years old It was my Mom's favorite poem.
I wish I
was a little rock just sittin’ on a hill,
Doin’ nothin’ all day long except a-sittin’ still.
I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t sleep,
I wouldn’t even wash,
I’d just sit right here a thousand years
and rest myself, by gosh.
Play Music 3
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