LaureatesKids

A Life’s Ambition Fulfilled

It was really cold when I went out before dawn yesterday morning. Of course it’s usually cold this time of year but as I lead Ringo, Larry, Gore, Dolly, Honey, Gumball, Pooter, and Thor from their assigned quarters to the staging area it seemed as if it was even colder than usual. I was really glad I was wearing the new high tech winter uniform, boots, and gloves as they’re no doubt the warmest available anywhere.

To say I was nervous would be an understatement. This is the day I’d waited my entire life to live, the day my team and I had trained for what seemed like a hundred years or more. If all went well and everyone did their jobs then the world would love us for eternity but a few mistakes would leave us forever in shame, afraid to show our faces in public or to face the families we’d all left behind so many years ago when each of us volunteered for this, the most secretive of missions.

As the team assembled in formation I turned to see the big guy walking out of his office right on time just like he was always on time-- just like everyone in the company is always on time. “Attention!” I shouted, “Officer on deck!”

“At ease,” the big guy ordered as he looked over my steely-eyed young team, each one’s breath steaming with every exhale-- their only movement the heaving of their chests, and breathing as if that too was in-time, “Jones!”

“Yes Sir!” I shouted.

“They look sharp, ready to go.”

“Yes Sir,” I replied, a snap in my voice. “They are ready to go, Sir.”

“They better be.” the big guy replied. “You only get one shot at it, if you fail then history will never be the same.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Is the equipment ready?”

“Ready Sir, I inspected it myself, Sir.”

“Very well, Jones. Tell you team to suit-up, it’s time to roll.”

“You heard the man,” I shouted to the team. “Suit-up, let’s roll!”

A flurry of activity ensued as my team and I changed into our flight suits while dozens of loaders and technicians loaded equipment and payload, secured parachute harnesses, and made the last minute inspections of our craft. My team and I had logged months in the classroom, thousands of hours in simulators, and hundreds of hours in real flight practice, but this time it was different-- this time it was do or die.

And so it was, early yesterday morning I sat at the controls listening to my two-way radio for runway clearance as the big guy and all the ground support looked on, and when the order came I keyed my mic. and shouted to the team, “Now Ringo! Now Larry! Now Dolly and Gore! On Honey! On Gumball, On Pooter, and Thor!. To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

And with that my sleigh rose from the ground and blasted South towards civilization, one thousand, two thousand, three thousand... over three thousand miles per hour with eight tiny reindeer pulling me from house to house, around the world in 24 hours delivering Christmas presents to all the good boys and girls. Maybe you saw me fly past your window or heard the tiny hoofs of eight reindeer landing on your roof? Maybe you heard me laugh, “Ho, ho, ho,” when I found the snacks you left for me? That’s right, the big guy finally retired and I’ve been promoted to Santa Claus.

If you get the chance feel free to drop in at the North Pole for a visit sometime. If not then maybe I’ll see you next year. Remember, I know who’s been naughty and nice. --Billy Claus


PS. I guess I've got to get busy changing the lyrics to all those songs: Here comes Billy Claus, here comes Billy Claus right down Billy Claus Lane... It's got a nice ring, don't you think?

The Ballad Of Crunchy Corn

Crunchy was a cornstalk
growing in the farmer’s field.
The farmer took good care of him
hoping for a bumper yield.
Crunchy grew up big and tall
with lots and lots of ears,
but nightly, when the farmer slept,
Crunchy spoke his fears,

“I don’t want to be a taco,
don’t want to be cornbread,
don’t want to be a corn flake,
or to the cattle fed.”
The other stalks all laughed at him,
“It’s what you’re here to do.
Grow tall, grow strong, grow lots of ears,
that’s why he planted you.”

But Crunchy cried, “Oh no, not me!
Don’t grind me to cornmeal.
Don’t feed me to the livestock
a grazing in the field.
Don’t bake me in an oven
or fry me with some fish.
You see, I’m not that kind of corn,
I’m not grits in a dish.”

Through Spring and Summer,
into the Fall, Crunchy grew and grew,
added ears so brightly yellow,
and grew so very tall.
And with each day that summer
Autumn’s harvest time grew near,
and late at night across the field
one could always hear,

“I don’t want to be a taco,
don’t want to be cornbread,
don’t want to be a corn flake,
or to the cattle fed.”
The other stalks all laughed at him,
“It’s what you’re here to do.
Grow tall, grow strong, grow lots of ears,
that’s why he planted you.”

Then one day it happened,
the combine came along
to harvest all the ears of corn.
The stalks all said, “So long.”
But Crunchy, he held to his dream
though the others gave him scorn.
Crunchy, yes, he got ate,
he made the best popcorn.

And as Crunchy popped I thought I saw him smile.

Jenny was a shy girl, not at all pedantic like her brother, Scott. Scott was very comfortable showing-off every little new thing he learned as if he were in-charge of teaching his older sibling everything there was to know about life. While learning your ABCs as a senior in high school might seem redundant to most students, Jenny understood that her six year old brother was simply going through the metamorphosis of growing up.

That’s why, when Scott declared that the Earth is flat, Jenny couldn’t help but question the illusion that Scott’s young mind had come up with. “Scott,” Jenny asked, “What makes you think the Earth is flat?”

“My teacher said so,” Scott replied as if he were now the resident authority on the geography of the Earth.

“I don’t think that’s what your teacher said,” Jenny cautioned. “Do you think she might have meant something else? Maybe you just didn’t understand her.”

“I’m sure the Earth is flat. I hear her say it.”

“Well, Scott, honey, it’s Friday so we’ll just have to ask Ms. Johnson to explain it to us when I walk you to school on Monday, okay?”

“Okay, but I’m sure that’s what she said.”

All weekend, everyone they met was greeted with the message that the Earth is flat, as if Scott were thinking that if he told enough people then the illusion would become thoroughly tried and true. While all treated Scott’s message with great skepticism-- all, that is, except for Scott and Jenny’s four year old cousin, Bruce, whose sole existence was based on his belief that six year old Scott was a hero-- Jenny faced the reality that no one was going to dislodge this notion from Scott’s brain before Monday. While Jenny understood her younger brother to have the soul of a child, his stubbornness was likened to that of the most obstinate of mules.

“I bet I’m right,” Scott said as the two of them walked to school on Monday morning. “I bet the Earth is flat.”

“What do you want to bet?” Jenny asked.

“I bet that if I loose then I’ll feed Ralph his dinner tonight.” Jenny usually fed Ralph, their Saint Bernard dog. Jenny hated feeding Ralph. He always jumped on her knocking her down, and drooled all over her. And his dog food smelled terrible.

“Okay, you’re on,” Jenny replied.

When they arrived at school, Ms. Johnson was waiting by the door. “Good morning, Jenny,” she greeted them both, “I see you got Scott here safely this morning.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Jenny replied. “He’s really no bother.”

“Are you going to ask her?” Scott asked.

“Ask me what?” Ms. Johnson queried.

“Scott is under the impression that the Earth is flat,” Jenny smiled, “but everyone knows the Earth is round, right?”

“Well,” Ms. Johnson grinned, “it appears that your younger brother has managed to pull a prank on you.”

“He has?”

“Yes, Jenny. Last Friday, when the buses were preparing to take the second graders on a field trip, one of Scott’s classmates, Tommy, managed to roll the globe under the rear tires of the bus so now the Earth in the first grade is flat until next year when new school supplies can be purchased.”

“I win, I win!” Scott shouted with glee. “I win!”

“Okay, so you win,” Jenny laughed. “So what do I have to do to pay off the bet?”

“You have to eat a jar full of pickles!” Scott exclaimed.

Oh, how Jenny hated pickles.

The Little Poem

Once upon a time in a far away land where few have dared to go there lived a little poem. As a matter of fact: there were lots of poems living there, of all shapes and sizes, and all forms and meanings, about all sorts of different things, and all of them hoped to someday leave that far away land to someday live here with us.

That’s right, all the poems of every shape and size, every form and style, and with all sorts of different meanings, wanted out. As it was, they were all trapped in this far away land, held prisoners by people who only wanted to hear what they thought was right. Only those poems that said just the right things were ever allowed to leave the far away land where few ever dare to go. The rest were condemned to stay there forever unless they agreed to say just the right things or the occasional open minded someone were to happen to decide themselves willing to listen to new and different ideas. But that rarely, if ever, happened.

This one little poem who lived in the far away land where few dare to go was so unpopular that one day he (I think it was a he.) decided to change his words so the people in our land would love him and let him leave that far away land where few dare to go. “How can I change my words” the little poem asked, “so people will let me come out and want to look at me?”

The little poem struggled for days and days while trying to change his words so that people would love him and let him come out, but no matter how hard he tried, the people still didn’t like him. Some people said he was too offensive so he decided to be cute, but then they said he was just plain too silly to get out.

He tried to be less controversial but other people accused him of selling out so he went back to being controversial, but that just made people even madder. All the while the little poem’s heart was breaking but the people then said he was too sad to come out.

Then the little poem got really mad. “All I want is to get out!” he shouted. “Why do you keep me locked-up when all the other poems get to get out? I haven’t done anything wrong. Let me out now!”

It was then the little poem began to grow and his words began to change. “What’s happening to me?” he cried. “Why am I changing like this?”

The little poem kept growing bigger and bigger, and because he was bigger he began to consume more words, and because he consumed more words he got bigger still. Soon he was a giant of a poem, bigger than any other, and still he continued to grow. “He’s going to be bigger than any of us!” a ballad was heard to exclaim.

“What if he starts eating us?” a little haiku was heard to say.

“Oh dear!” a sonnet screamed, “what if he becomes mean?”

“What if he gets so big he explodes!” a free verse shouted. “He’ll kill us all!”

“Run for your lives!” a limerick screamed.

It was then all the poems ran away from the once little, but now very big, poem. Now he was all alone with no one to comfort him so he began to eat even more words to feed the depression from which he suffered. In just a few short weeks he became the largest poem the world has ever known and still the people won’t let him out. Now they all agree that the little poem is much too big.

And so it goes, the little poem still waits all alone with no one to nurture it and no one who cares about its fate. While on the outside the little poem is a monster, on the inside it’s still a little child, a child all alone with no one to love it and no one to teach it how to present itself to the world. So as the little poem sets there in that far away land where few dare to go, eating words, “Roses are red, violets are yellow,” and remaining confused, “Violets are green and roses are Jello,” I have to wonder if there are any among us who dare to rescue the little poem and present it to the world? Will you be the hero who rescues the little poem in distress?

Remember: A poem is a terrible thing to waste.

Wildflowers

Spring is finally here. Everywhere you look the sun is shining and the flowers are blooming.

Animals came out to play. A rabbit,

a turtle,

a cow,

even a giraffe came to visit me today. A giraffe? I wonder where he came from.

In the park someone flew a kite.

It was a lovely spring day. I saw tulips.

And daffodils.

Even the dandelions with their showy white tops

had bright yellow flowers blooming in the bright sun.

There were flowers on trees and flowers on bushes. The azaleas were at their pink blooming best and the sweet smell of lilies filled the air.

I saw purple pansies, red tulips, and blooming bushes whose names I do not know. There was even a sunflower waiting to greet me. Wait a minute, sunflowers don't bloom in the Spring Well that one did.

But late at night, after all the flowers go to sleep, something strange begins to happen. The wildflowers begin to pull up their roots and run across the fields. They laugh, sing, and dance. Sometimes they get in trouble just like the naughty flowers they are.

What’s that? You say you don’t believe wildflowers can pull up roots and run away. You don’t believe they dance, sing, and have a good time? I didn’t think you’d believe me. It really does seem absurd, don’t you think? But it’s true and I’ve got proof!

The following is a story written by my nine year old niece, Laura. Laura says she hopes you enjoy her story.

Cotton and the Cat
by Laura Cheyenne Jones

Cotton is a big white dog.

The cat is yellow.

Cotton likes the cat very much.

The cat likes Cotton too!

The cat likes to eat Cotton's food.

Cotton wants to eat the cat!

The cat teases Cotton, but Cotton can't catch the cat because the cat is too fast, but Cotton doesn't mind because he knows the cat will eat

and eat,

and eat,

and eat some more until the cat is very fat.

And slow.

Then Cotton will eat the cat.

The End.

ARNIE AND THE CHERRY PIE
From The Adventurers Of Arnie And Jake by Billy Jones

Arnie didn't mean to make anyone mad. He was just out scouting for food to take back home to the colony. How was he to know the largest cherry pie he had ever seen actually belonged to someone? After all, the pie was just sitting there on the counter. Besides, what's a simple little private in the Little Hill Ant Army supposed to do?


click on picture Arnie almost didn't see that huge wooden spoon when it came crashing down next to his little ant head! Arnie felt the spoon graze across his left antennae, and cherry pie splattered all over the kitchen, but Arnie didn't stay around to eat any of it! Arnie ran as fast as his six little legs would carry him!

He hid behind a pepper shaker and waited. Arnie was no coward but he knew when to pick his battles and Arnie knew there is no way a single ant can whip an angry human. Maybe the human who tried to hit him with the spoon would think he was gone and would stop looking for him, or maybe the angry human would look until it found him, but Arnie wasn't coming out. No way!

Arnie heard the human say a few words about dumb ants which Arnie didn't appreciate, but Arnie wasn't about to complain just then, so he continued to hide as the angry human picked up the huge pie and walked away.

Not wanting to come out too soon, Arnie waited behind the pepper shaker until he was sure no one was going to return. When he came out from hiding, he was surprised to find several of his cousins-- all of them soldiers too-- busy collecting bits of cherry pie and rushing them back to the Little Hill Ant Colony. "Arnie," Cousin Jake asked, "where have you been? There's cherry pie all over the place. You better get started working before Captain Thomas figures out that you haven't been here all along."

Arnie didn't know what to say so he just started gathering up bits of cherry pie as quickly as he could go. "It's about time you got here, Arnie!" It was Captain Thomas and he was mad. It was easy to tell when Captain Thomas was mad because his antennae would vibrate when he was mad, and they were really vibrating fast. "I suppose you just decided to take a nap or go smell the flowers instead of showing up for work like every other ant in the army has to do!"

"No Sir," Arnie said. "I've been here all along. It was I who first discovered the pie."

"Arnie!" roared Captain Thomas, "It's bad enough you're late, but now you're lying about it and claiming you discovered the pie!"

"But Sir, I did find the pie. But I was hiding behind the pepper shaker."

"Hiding," yelled the captain, "hiding from what?"

"From the human who almost flattened me with a huge wooden spoon," answered Arnie.

"Human, no one saw a human," yelled Captain Thomas. "Jake, have you seen any humans?"

"No sir," answered Jake, "I haven't seen anyone but us ants."

"Anyone else see a human?" shouted Captain Thomas.

"Not I," said another ant.

"Me neither," said still another.

"Arnie," Captain Thomas said still quite angry, "for that you'll have to do extra duty for the next two weeks. No time off and no weekends off. Do you understand me, Private?"

"But sir," complained Arnie, "I'm supposed to go on vacation this weekend. You can't make me miss out on my vacation."

"I can make you miss out on anything. I'm the captain, remember?"

"Yes sir," Arnie said. "yes sir."

Arnie’s heart was broken. He had looked forward to this vacation for months. He was planning on going to the house down the street where he heard there was a whole house full of human children-- five or six of them-- and lots of ice-cream and candy spills all over the entire house. The other ants called it Paradise and Arnie wanted to experience it for himself. “Captain Thomas, sir, I swear I saw a human. It almost killed me. Look at the big scrape on my antennae.”

“Looks to me like you scraped your antennae on some of those grains of salt over there, Soldier. I suggest you be more careful and look where you are walking. Besides, that fly in the window is working aerial surveillance for us, and his report indicates that the human who lives here left in it’s vehicle before sunrise.”

“But sir...”

“Don’t you but sir me, Soldier!” shouted the captain. “I’ll hear no more of your nonsense. Now get back to gathering that cherry pie before I bust you back to gathering mud to build new ant hills.”

Arnie had worked gathering mud to build ant hills before, and that was really hard work, not to mention the fact that it was all outdoors even in bad weather. Arnie thought best of saying anything more, but wondered if there was nothing he could do to save his good name as well as his vacation in the house called Paradise.

Late that night, and tired from having worked two shifts, Arnie crawled into bed, his whole body aching, curled up his antennae to shut out the noise of the busy ant colony, and went quickly to sleep. “Wake up, wake up, Arnie,” cousin Jake said as he shook Arnie awake.

“But I just went to sleep,” grogged Arnie.

“No you didn’t,” replied Jake. “You’re late reporting to duty and Captain Thomas is really mad.

“Okay,” Arnie said as he uncurled his antennae, “okay.”

Arnie ran as quickly as he could to get into formation with the other ants who were all lined up in front of the captain. “About time you showed up, Soldier. I suppose you were hiding from the human with the giant wooden spoon again.”

“No sir,” said Arnie. “I overslept, Sir.”

“Overslept, well that’s what happens when you stay out all night looking for honey, soldier. I suspect you better shape up before I take away your vacation next year too.”

“Yes sir,” said Arnie.

Now what was Arnie to do? How could he make the captain believe there really was a human with a huge wooden spoon, and he really did almost get squashed? And now the captain thinks he stayed out all night long looking for honey, but he didn’t even drink honey because too many good ants get caught up in drinking honey and ruin their whole lives. Honey is a horrible drug, and Arnie wasn’t about to ruin his life that way, but now his life, or at least his vacation, was ruined anyway.

“Okay Soldiers,” Captain Thomas announced, “our aerial surveillance team has assured us there is no one home today, and someone has left the top off of the sugar bowl, so today we are going to hustle and get every grain of sugar out of that bowl before the human comes home. The fly will be watching from the window to alert us should the human return, but since this is a weekday we don’t expect the human to return before late this evening so we shouldn’t have any problem getting this done. Now get to it, Ants!”

Arnie and his buddies lined up and ran as quickly as they could to the sugar bowl. The cherry pie was long gone as the human had cleaned up all that the ants had failed to take with them the day before, but all that sugar was there for the taking. With any luck it would be a short day for all but Arnie.

All went well until about two in the afternoon, when suddenly from out of nowhere the angry human appeared with a fly swatter! The fly in the window screamed a warning then fled as fast as its wings could whisk it away, but many of Arnie’s buddies were killed or wounded before the Malay was over! This is tragic, thought Arnie. This is the absolute worst thing I have ever seen. How could this have happened?

After they escaped from the angry human with the fly swatter, they gathered to discuss what had just happened to them. “The fly’s a spy!” shouted the captain. “The fly’s a spy for he has good eyes, and he didn’t try. The fly’s a spy, now hear my cry, the fly’s a spy, the fly must die!”

“But Captain,” Arnie asked, “why would the fly turn on us? The human would surely kill him with the fly swatter as quickly as it would kill us.”

“The fly’s a spy, the fly’s a spy. He could have warned us but he didn’t try. Because of him good ants die. The fly’s a spy. The fly must die.”

“Maybe the fly was mistaken,” Arnie warned the captain, “like the day the human almost killed me with the wooden spoon. Do you think a human would cut a deal with a fly? Humans hate flies, right?”

“You’ve got a good point there, Arnie,” the captain said. “Maybe the fly was mistaken but he’s got a lot of explaining to do before I believe he’s not at fault. With all those eyes he should have been able to spot the human’s vehicle when it pulled in the driveway, and humans move so slowly we should of had plenty of time to retreat before it got to us. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Just then, another ant ran into the briefing room where Arnie, the captain, and the other survivors of the attack were discussing their dire straits. “Captain Thomas, sir,” shouted the ant as he saluted with his antennae, “I’m Sergeant Lost of Little Hill Ant Army Intelligence, and we’ve got a situation headquarters says you need to be aware of ASAP!”

“Go on, Sergeant,” said the captain.

“Well Sir, Ant Army Intelligence reports there’s a human in the house that your soldiers are raiding today, Sir, and that the house may be occupied even though there is no vehicle parked in the driveway. Also the hours of occupation have changed.”

“How long as Army Intelligence known about this?” asked Captain Thomas.

“Several weeks, Sir.”

“Several weeks!” the captain shouted the loudest anyone had ever heard him shout, his antennae vibrating faster than ever before! “Ant Army Intelligence has known about this for several weeks and they’re just now sending a messenger. That doesn’t sound too intelligent does it? What about all the good ants we lost? They were some of the best trained troops this army has ever trained! And what about all our wounded? I lost over half a squadron of crack troops today. What’s Intelligence got to say about that, Sergeant?”

“Yeah, and what about all those double shifts Arnie had to work, and what about his vacation?” Jake shouted at Sergeant Lost. “What about it?”

The next day Arnie was eating the biggest spill of chocolate chip ice-cream swirls he had ever seen in the house down the street called, Paradise. Of course thinking about his buddies made vacation a little less than he had hoped it would be, but after vacation he was to start his new assignment as the new head of Ant Army Intelligence. It was the fastest promotion in the history of the Little Hill Ant Army.


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The Great Police Chase

He pulls out on the boulevard,
crosses to the other side.
Others blow their horns,
hit their brakes and slide!
He swerves around the corners
barely staying on his wheels,
a siren wailing far behind
as every bump he feels.

He’s running all the red lights
doin’ ninety miles an hour!
The police, they can’t stop him
‘cause they just don’t have the power.
Folks say, “He’s just a run-away,
we ought to let him go.”
While others shout, “Stop him, no doubt!”
An’ me, I just don’t know.

He takes a left, then a right,
folks pull out of his way!
He pulls out on the Interstate
to where, I cannot say.
We don’t know much about him
and don’t know where he’ll go,
but one thing that we know for sure,
he’s puttin’ on a show!

Traffic chopper’s flyin’ overhead.
Now he’s on TV!
The networks picked the signal up,
the world can watch for free.
The talkin’ heads are talkin’
Said, “It gave us quite a start.
Who’d a thought we’d cover
a run-away shopping cart?”

Said, “I wonder why he did it?
A rogue who won the nation’s heart,
an’ all the country’s talkin’ ‘bout
a run-away shopping cart!”

Charlie, The Stickman

I'm gonna tell you all a story.
Was back in fifty-six,
'bout a man named Charlie Stickman
who picked up all the sticks.
He wasn't much to look at,
and cash, he didn't have any,
but if you wanted sticks,
well Charlie, he had plenty.

Folks said that he was crazy
totin' sticks 'bout all the time,
but Charlie never worried,
an' thought his sticks so fine.
An' all the folks was talkin'
'bout Charlie an' his sticks
while Charlie gathered all he could
an' piled 'em up like bricks.

There was sticks in every room,
an' sticks in Charlie's yard.
He'd piled 'em all about the place
a workin' way too hard.
'Round town the folks was talkin'
'bout Charlie an' his sticks,
laughin' and a tellin' jokes
sayin', Charlie's head was thick.

But one cold night it happened:
the winter winds did howl.
Them folks in town was plenty cold.
So cold they hollered, “owl!”
Them folks, they was a freezin'!
The cold, it had them beat,
an' Charlie, he had all the sticks
to burn to give them heat.

So they all went to Charlie's place
to ask him for his sticks,
an' Charlie laughed at all of them
who'd said, his head was thick.
But Charlie let 'em buy his sticks.
See Charlie ain't no fool.
Then Charlie headed south
to a place that ain't so cool.

I want to tell you of a story.
It were back in fifty-seven
in a place so far down south,
folks up north, they called it heaven.
Then one strange day it happened.
The snow began to blow,
an' while the folks all stayed inside
Charlie Iceman loaded snow.

Ringo Went Laughing

Ringo the Dingo went laughing one day.
He laughed and he laughed,
he laughed the whole way.
He laughed at an Emu
‘cause Emus can’t fly,
then laughed at a Lory
as it flew ‘cross the sky.

He laughed at a Quoll,
the cat with white spots.
The Quoll thought him silly
for laughing a lot.

He laughed at a Bilby
as it hopped about
dining on berries,
sweet, no doubt.

He laughed at a Dibbler
who was resting so snug,
said, “You’re just a nibbler
who likes to eat bugs.”

He laughed at a Kookaburra
in an old gum tree.
The Kookaburra asked,
“Why you laughin’ at me?”

He laughed at a Cassowary,
said, “You can’t fly either,”
and a prickly Echidna,
“You’re just an ant-eater.”

Saw a Tasmanian Devil
but he didn’t stay long,
and quickly ran off
laughing along.

He laughed at a Wallaby
who couldn’t walk back,
but instead, chose to hop away,
saying, “That’s enough of that!”
He laughed at a Wombat
then fell in its hole,
and when he climbed out
he laughed at a Mole.

He laughed at a Swan
with feathers of black.
The swan honked, “Go ‘way,
and never come back!”

Saw a Saint Andrew's Cross
writing on its web,
then tore up its web
sayin’, “Write my name instead.”

He laughed at a Goose
so proud of its mane,
then laughed at a Croc’.
Could Ringo be insane?

He laughed at a Duck
and a Bleeding-heart dove,
then laughed at two turtles
who were falling in love.

Ringo laughed at a Platypus.
I guess you know why.
Then laughed at a Lapwing,
red wattle so high.
He laughed at a Lorikeet
and a Fairy-bluebird.
You should have seen him,
he was so absurd.

Ringo laughed ‘til he hurt
then Ringo laughed more,
but no one can say
what Ringo laughed for.

He laughed at an Adder
who hissed, “Go away
or you’ll never get
to laugh one more day.

He laughed at the people
who are reading this book,
and are laughing at him
as he takes a look.

He laughed at a Fox
and a Cockatoo too,
who squawked, “Pretty soon
we’ll be laughing at you.”
But that didn’t matter
‘cause Ringo still laughed,
and he laughed and he laughed,
and he laughed and he laughed...

Saw a Pseudantechinus
with a really fat tail,
laughed at it and a Plover
just as it set sail.

He saw an Alpaca
then laughed like a fool,
sayin’, “Yes Sir, yes Sir,
ten bags full.”

He spied a Koala bear
in a Eculyptius tree,
laughed ‘til he cried,
then laughed at a Bee.
He laughed at a Cane toad
but the toad only croaked,
then laughed at a Tasmanian wolf
eating a goat.

He laughed at the goat too!

He laughed at a Possum,
the one with one ‘O’
then laughed at a fox,
sayin’, “I gotta go.”

Ringo laughed at a pigeon
then laughed at a ‘Roo,
saying, “’Roo, in your pouch,
have you room for two?”

He laughed at a Parrot
then a bat, Flying-fox,
then laughed at a Weasel,
and then his laugh stopped...

and while everyone waited...

and waited...

and waited...

and waited...

and waited some more...

He looked at his friends
who were gathered you see,
then shouted to all,
“Come on, laugh with me!”

And they laughed and they laughed.
Yes, they laughed through the night.
They laughed all day long
‘cause laughing feels right.
They laughed ‘cause they could,
‘cause it made them feel good,
and they all laughed together
the way we all should...

And some say they’re laughing still...