Poems by Annie

Pretty Yvette 
 
Pretty Yvette would like a Corvette,
But the money—it just isn’t there.
Her mother is getting her doctorate
‘Cause she no longer wants to cut hair.
 
Her daddy is building a robot.
Those robot parts—they don’t come cheap.
By day he’s an Apple Store hotshot;
He tinkers while folks are asleep.
 
Yvette has a brother named Alfred,
Who would like to fly to the moon.
He has rockets all over his bed spread;
He eats from a Buzz Lightyear spoon.
 
Yvette, she wants to drive racecars
And fly at great speeds round a track.
A Corvette—or maybe a Jaguar--
Would be great in lime green or in black.
 
But racing must wait till she’s older;
Those dreams, they will just have to keep.
They will wait—they will simmer and smolder--
While she races those cars in her sleep!


Helmet  

My helmet, it protected me
While riding through Schenectady
On my trusty, rusty, ten-speed bike.

I like to let my hair blow free,
But without my head, there'd be no ME,
Thus I wear this shell that I don't like.

Some like to spout philosophy
From platforms or on bended knee
That freedom, basic freedom, is their right.

But a corner that is slippery
Or any other tragedy
Could leave them just a plaque marked, "Here lies Mike"

Or "Jen" or "Sam" or "Stephanie"--
Their families sobbing endlessly...
So please: 
 
Wear your helmet when you ride a bike!


Hip Hop 
 
Hip hop music – basses thump,
Hands up high – fist pump bump.
 
Move your body – stomp your feet,
Feel the rhythm – catch that beat!


Phil the Photographer

Frippery-frappery
Phil the Photographer
Snapped off some photos of
Fancy-type folk.
Flashing montages of
Phantasmagoria,
Phil was just thrilled with the
Chills he’d provoke.

​
Success
 
You want to write for little kids,
For ‘tweens, or young adults.
You know success—and maybe fame--
Will be your end results.
 
You tell your friends you’re serious,
A novel’s gaining ground.
Your poetry is piling up--
An agent must be found!
 
But truth be told you’re filled with guilt;
It’s rare your butt’s in chair.
The kid lit dream seems out of reach--
You’re tearing out your hair.
 
A partnership is what you need,
With strangers or a friend,
Who’ll hold you to a daily goal--
And praise you without end.
 
You’ll meet your goals and feel your joy
Increase as you progress.
A team makes work seem more like play--
And that is true success!