The Terrible Tutu To-do
She stamps both her feet
She simply won’t eat
She glares with furious eyes.
She raises a fist
She will not be kissed
Accuses them all of lies.
She makes awful faces
Loses all of her graces
It goes on like this all the day.
And all this great to-do
Is due to a tutu --
That’s too small and starting to fray.
Not so surprising
When one’s realizing
She’s worn it since just turning two.
But she’s just turning three
Is as plump as can be --
There’s simple nothing to do.
Goes to bed growling
In the night prowling
Awakens the next day with flu.
Is sick all that week
Her temper most bleak
Need I say that the household’s is too?
Her first healthy day
A friend comes to play
Wearing a velvet dress.
That dress is so lush-like
It feels oh-so plush-like
What follows is easy to guess.
Now nothing will do
She’s to have velvet too
And soon velvet fashions abound.
Bedcovers and drapes
Hats, boots, mittens and capes
Dresses piled high on the ground.
Gone frayed old tutu
Without tears or todo
She’s becoming a girl to adore.
A kind sweet faced child
Even tempered and mild
What will happen next year when she’s four?
Submitted: October 26, 2011
© Copyright 2022 Wilbur. All rights reserved.
Comments
Great poem, clever and funny, and I liked the rhyming, a little out of the ordinary. Very well done!
Thu, December 15th, 2011 3:30amthis was cute and pouty....dug it so much...so THERE
Tue, January 31st, 2012 6:32pmLOL those memories of children having tantrums when they no longer have their favourite clothes were almost forgotten but this delightful poem has brought some of them back....Good rhyme and flow and I enjoyed the humour......Well written
Fri, February 10th, 2012 3:51ama genre far from my mileau...but your style makes this poetry-challenged Irishman grin, rub thoughtfully on the ever-increasing gray strands sprouting from the goatee, and ponder how seriously to take the next four year old, two- legged container of precociousness I come across.
There can be wisdom in them thar hills....out of the mouths of babes, does often pragmatism stumble....will keep my net in the water to catch same....
I'd say well-done, but a man must know his limitations..I can say with 100% purity I enjoyed this. Bill
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Mike Stevens
This is ONE imaginative poem; I liked it very much!
Wed, December 14th, 2011 9:23pmAuthor
Reply
A romp to be permitted to live a cross-patch with the terrible-two's at age three. Stamp me feet, growl - great fun.
Wed, December 14th, 2011 1:59pmGlad it pleased, as your liking it has pleased.
All regards, Wilbur