“Ethan, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.  My feet really hurt.”

“Yeah, so do mine, Sammy.  Maybe we should just live at the zoo like Uncle Carl. He gets fed well and just relaxes all day,” said Ethan.

“When I said I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I meant this job. I didn’t mean give up on our dream of being independent elephants.”

“Relax. I haven’t lost sight of that dream either, Sammy.  Look, I appreciated Mr. Dilley giving us a job at his carwash, but using my trunk as a water hose isn’t how I want to spend my days.”

“You think I do? I have one dream in life, just one.”

“I know, I know, I’ve heard this story a thousand times. You want to be a chef more than anything else on Earth,” said Ethan.

“That’s right, a chef,” said Sammy. “But that’s never going to happen, because nobody wants to eat food cooked by an elephant.”

“You just haven’t found the right restaurant yet,” said Ethan. “Don’t give up, Sammy. Somebody will give you a job eventually.”

“Well, I’ve applied to every restaurant in town and they all said the same thing: ‘Sorry, but we don’t even serve peanut butter stew here.’ What are they thinking? How can you not serve peanut butter stew at a restaurant?”

“I agree. It doesn’t make sense,” said Ethan. “It’s not worth getting upset over though, Sammy. They obviously don’t know what they’re talking about, since they don’t even serve peanut butter stew.”

“Thanks, Ethan.  I’m just tired of waiting for someone else to give me a chance. So first thing tomorrow morning I am going to the bank for a loan. We’ll just open up our own place.  And every customer that walks through the door will be treated with respect.  And I mean every customer – little boys and girls, grown-ups, puppy dogs, elephants, even a tiger if he’s willing to behave himself.”

“Can I be the one who greets them at the door with a song?” asked Ethan. “I’ve always dreamed of being a singer.”

“Absolutely,” said Sammy. “I’ll make the stew and you can sing your heart out to all the customers.”

Ethan took the sponge he had been using to wipe down a little blue car and pretended it was a microphone. To the surprise of Sammy and the man sitting in the little blue car, Ethan began to sing:

“Our days here,

Are almost through,

Doot-doot, doot–doot, doot-doot, doot-doot, doot;

No more, Carwash Blues,

Doot-doot, doot–doot, doot-doot, doot-doot, doot;

Because we’ve got better things to do,

Like singing tunes,

And making stew,

That’s

All

We

Really

Want

To

Do,

Doot-doot, doot–doot, doot-doot, doot-doot, doot.”

“That’s great. That’s wonderful,” said the man in the little blue car. “But until then, can you please get the suds off my car?”

Ethan and Sammy finished washing the little blue car as the man requested and smiled the whole time they cleaned it. Even with sore feet it was easy for them to smile now, because they knew their dreams were going to come true. Their days of working at the car wash would be over soon. Or so it seemed.

Mr. Dilley had been paying Ethan and Sammy with peanuts, which they felt was the only good thing about working at the car wash. But when Sammy tried to use several bags of peanuts at the bank, he was informed he would have to shell out something else: money.

Sammy was heartbroken. He and Ethan didn’t have one nickel between them, and the cost of starting up a restaurant was more than Sammy ever imagined. He didn’t know how he was going to explain this to Ethan when he got back.  But Sammy didn’t have to say anything – the sad look on his face spoke a thousand words.

“It’s all right, Sammy,” said Ethan. “We’ll figure something out.”

Sammy just nodded, as a little tear rolled down his cheek.

A good thing happened the next morning, though. Mr. Dilley agreed to start paying Ethan and Sammy with money, not just peanuts.  But the job paid very little, and if they saved every penny they made between them it would take a very, very, long time to afford a restaurant of their own.

Ethan and Sammy tried to keep their spirits up, but it was tough.  Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Sammy still couldn’t find anyone willing to give him a loan for his restaurant.

For a while it seemed as though Ethan and Sammy would spend the rest of their lives working at the car wash, until something unexpected happened.  Something wonderful!

While hosing down a car one afternoon, Ethan and Sammy abruptly stopped what they were doing when the sound of bells and music filled the air.

“Where’s that music coming from?” asked Sammy.

“Beats me, but it sounds like it’s getting closer,” said Ethan. “Let’s go take a look.”

Ethan and Sammy walked to the front of the car wash and were surprised to see a big, orange truck in the parking lot.  The big orange truck was playing music and had bells that chimed repeatedly. Several people walked up to the truck and began speaking to a man who stood inside it. Everyone was smiling and looked very happy.

“Here you go, young lady,” said the man in the big orange truck. “Enjoy your ice-cream sandwich.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding me!  That man is selling ice-cream to people from his truck,” said Sammy. “What a brilliant idea.  Don’t wait for your customers to come to you – go out and find them!”

“And he is playing music for them,” said Ethan. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Sammy?”

“Yeah, how does he keep the ice-cream from melting?”

“No, that’s not what I was thinking,” said Ethan, shaking his head. “I am sure there’s a freezer on the truck, Sammy. I’m talking about us, silly. A truck should be a lot less expensive than a restaurant. Why don’t we start our own business by renting a truck, and just go out and find our customers like the man with the ice-cream?”

Sammy didn’t say a word, but smiled from ear to floppy ear. He knew right then and there that his life was going to change. And it did. After a pay raise and a couple more months of working at the car wash, Ethan and Sammy went to the bank and got the loan they needed to start their business. They had the words “Stew and Tunes” written on the side of their truck. It took awhile to catch on, but eventually the whole town of Belvar fell in love with Sammy’s peanut butter stew.

Unlike the big orange truck that delivered ice-cream, bells didn’t chime on Ethan and Sammy’s truck, but there was plenty of music to be sure. And everyone in Belvar knew the truck was close by when they heard Ethan sing:

“We’re so happy,

To see you,

Doot-doot, doot–doot, doot-doot, doot-doot, doot;

No more, Carwash Blues,

Doot-doot, doot–doot, doot-doot, doot-doot, doot;

Because we’ve got better things to do,

Like singing tunes,

And making stew,

That’s

All

We

Really

Want

To

Do,

Doot-doot, doot–doot, doot-doot, doot-doot, doot.”

 © Artie Knapp 2020

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Motivation

1. The two elephants in this story have a big dream. But it’s hard to get. Does this stop them from trying to realise their dream?

2. What do you think this story says about following your dreams?

3. Do you have any big dreams? What are they!

Bedtime story written by Artie Knapp

In-text illustrations by Aja Mulford

The post No More Car Wash Blues first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary on that Tuesday evening in Belvar. The local bowling alley was packed for the 26th Annual Belvar Bowling Championship.  Everyone was excited for the event to get started.

“Okay, this is the last call.  Is there anyone else who wants to register for the tournament before we get underway?” asked the mayor.

The crowd was silent.

“Well, let’s get started then,” the mayor said.

The bowling alley erupted in cheers, but then a deep, husky voice said, “Wait. Count me in.”

At that moment, terror engulfed the entire bowling alley. Parents reached for their children, and the bowlers braced for the worst.

The mayor, who was now on wobbly knees said, “Ple… Ple… Please leave, sir. We don’t want any trouble.”

“Relax! I’m not going to hurt anybody,” declared an alligator wearing sunglasses. Then he took off his sunglasses and said, “Look, I’m just here for the tournament. May I please play?”

“You bowl?” asked a frightened old lady from the crowd.

“Whenever I get the chance,” said the alligator. “But as you can imagine, there are very few opportunities for me to do so. I read about this tournament and would really like to be a part of it.”

The mayor, who had finally collected his breath said, “Well, if you behave and promise that you’re just here for the tournament, then I don’t see any problem with you participating.”

“I give you my word,” said the alligator. “After the tournament is over, I’ll leave as I came, in peace.”

“Are there any objections?” asked the mayor to the other bowlers.

None of the bowlers said a word. Why would they? Who would take a chance on upsetting an alligator?

“Very well then,” said the mayor. “Let the tournament begin.”

After the alligator thanked the mayor for allowing him to participate, he headed for the shoe racks. Everyone in the bowling alley was watching his every move.

“What’s your name?” asked a little girl hidden behind her mother’s protective grasp.

“Al,” replied the alligator. “My name is Al.”

Al set his bowling ball bag atop the shoe counter. After paying his entry fee and realizing there weren’t any size 9’s, in extra, extra, extra wide, Al walked back towards the lanes to prepare to play. The rest of the bowlers were still watching Al intently.

“Well, come on. Are we going to bowl or not?” asked the mayor.

One by one, the bowlers began throwing practice balls. Bosco Wilson, who had won the tournament for six consecutive years, walked up to Al and said, “Hey gator, I don’t know where you’re from, or where you’ve played before, but this tournament is mine. I never lose.”

Al just ignored Bosco and began practicing with the other bowlers. His first practice throws went straight into the gutter.  No pins.  Bosco laughed at Al and said, “Well, it looks like the only thing we have to fear from you is getting our arms bit off. You’re a horrible bowler, gator.”

“I’m just warming up,” replied Al calmly.

“Okay, let’s bowl!” said the mayor. And so they did.

The total scores after three games would determine the overall champion of the tournament. After the first two games were played, Al was in second place, trailing Bosco by only two pins.

Since Bosco first won the tournament six years earlier, nobody had even finished a close second. The tight match made the crowd excited.

It wasn’t that the crowd was rooting for Al, as much as they were rooting against Bosco.

Bosco, meanwhile, was growing concerned about Al’s strong performance, so he decided it was time to distance himself from his closest competitor.

As the third and final game was about to begin, Bosco snuck up behind Al and poured water on the floor behind him.

When Al turned around he slipped and fell face-first. In the fall, Al hurt not one, but both of his hands. The crowd was silent as Al grimaced in pain.

“You should learn to be more careful, gator,” said Bosco, laughing.

“Bosco, you behave yourself, or I’ll have you thrown out of this tournament,” said the mayor.

“I just want to make sure he’s alright,” said Bosco sarcastically.

The mayor asked Al if he could continue. Al told the mayor that he would finish the tournament, but stated that his hands were hurting too much to use.

Puzzled by Al’s remark, the mayor asked, “How on earth can you play then?”

Al whispered something in the mayor’s ear, which caused him to laugh out loud.

“I see,” said the mayor. “Very well then, let’s finish this tournament.”

As the final game was about to begin, a voice from the crowd shouted, “You can do it, Al! You can beat him.”

The same little girl who had asked Al his name was the one rooting him on. Al smiled at the little girl and then picked up his bowling ball – with his tail!

“What is he doing?” asked Bosco aloud.

And then to the amazement of everyone in the bowling alley, Al sprinted toward the lane with his bowling ball dangling from his tail. He released the ball and threw a perfect strike.

Bosco couldn’t believe it. Nobody could, for that matter. Al’s tail provided a powerful grip which enabled him to throw his bowling ball with much more ease and accuracy. Bosco was outraged, but the mayor informed him there were no rules stating one couldn’t use a tail to throw their bowling ball.

The final game wasn’t even close.  Al easily beat Bosco and was declared the winner of the tournament.

Even though everyone was happy Bosco didn’t win the championship again, most folks didn’t know how to react to an alligator winning either.  But that didn’t bother Al. To him it wasn’t about winning or losing; all he ever wanted was a chance to play.

As he was exiting the bowling alley, the little girl who had rooted Al on pleaded to have her picture taken with him. Al was happy to do so, and after the little girl’s mom reluctantly agreed to her daughter’s wishes, the picture was taken.

Had it not been for that picture, nobody outside of Belvar would have ever believed the myth.

To this day the people of Belvar still ponder what happened to Al. Is he living in a swamp somewhere? Will he ever come back? Does he still bowl?

One thing is for sure though: on one night in the summer in Belvar, an alligator bowled with the best of them – and won.

Whenever a visitor in town doubts the legend, they’re always directed to a hall inside Belvar’s bowling alley. The hall is nicknamed Alligator Alley, and it’s filled with trophies bearing the name of each winner of the Belvar Bowling Championship.  There is also a picture hanging in the center of the hall that always seems to grab people’s attention.

 © Artie Knapp 2020

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Respect and Tolerance

1. Do you think the people in the bowling alley did the right thing in accepting the alligator to play in their bowling alley? Why or why not?

2. The alligator tells the people he comes in peace – he just wants to play a game of bowling. What do you think this story might say about people and creatures who seem different from one another?

Bedtime story written by Artie Knapp

In-text illustrations by Aja Mulford

The post Alligator Alley first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

Even though Owen knew his sister was right, he was still too scared to come out of his shell.

You see, Owen was a baby turtle who had recently experienced his first thunderstorm.  And ever since then Owen was afraid of everything! And when I say everything, I mean everything: chirping crickets, little field mice, the moonlight. Even the slightest bit of wind rattled Owen’s shell.

The lightning bolts and thunder from the storm still haunted his dreams.  Just thinking about them made Owen tremble.

“Of all the eggs that mamma laid, we’re still the only two who haven’t reached water yet,” said Owen’s Sister Shany.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it,” said Owen.

“Come on, Owen! You can too. This is just something you have to face. There’s going to be tougher things in life to deal with than just a little storm.”

“Just a little storm – you call that a little storm?  The lightning bounced off my shell for crying out loud!”

“Well, I must admit it was amazing to see, but it did bounce off you, Owen. Why are you so afraid now?”

“Where there’s one there’s bound to be another,” said Owen. “Maybe next time the lightning bolt doesn’t bounce off me!  Then I’m a goner!”

“Look, Owen, if we don’t find a pond soon we’re both going to be goners.  And besides, the chances of you getting struck by lightning again are probably one in a million.”

“Yeah, which means it could happen,” said Owen.

“Right, and I am going to win the Miss Turtle Universe Beauty Pageant,” said Shany.  “You’re going to have to trust me, Owen.  Since you were the last egg to hatch, I have to look after you. That’s the rule! You’re my baby brother, after all!”

“You hatched forty seconds before I did,” said Owen. “What makes you so grown up?”

“I’m not all grown up.  But like it or not, I am still your older sister.  And unlike you, I’m not afraid of everything under the sun.”

Shany laughed at him then, but even Shany’s laughter wasn’t enough to get Owen out of his shell.

“Nice try.  But I’m still not risking it,” said Owen.

Just then, a little turtle named Roxie walked up to ask for directions.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, but could you please tell me where to find Pike Lake?”

Owen had experienced lightning first hand, but he had never felt electricity like this before. To Owen, Roxie was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And for the first time since the big storm, Owen didn’t feel afraid.

Without hesitation, Owen popped out of his shell to offer Roxie assistance, but then felt too shy to say anything to her.  Shany saved him though – she pointed to where she believed Pike Lake to be and asked Roxie if she wanted help finding it.  Roxie appreciated Shany’s offer, but said she was battling a cold and didn’t want to get them sick, too.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to find,” said Roxie. “Thanks for your help and I hope we’ll meet again someday.”

As Roxie walked away, Owen felt empty.  Even though Owen hadn’t said a single word to Roxie, he knew he had to see her again.  And that thought alone turned Owen’s emptiness into joy.

“You see, Shany, I’m not afraid.  I’m out of my shell and nothing will ever scare me again,” said Owen gleefully.

But before Owen could utter another word he had jumped right into Shanty’s arms!

“What is it now, Owen?” asked Shany.

“Oh, I just heard the most awful sound in the world.  The sound of thunder! Another storm must be on the way.”

A couple of giggles followed by a loud ornery laugh could be heard close by. It wasn’t thunder that had frightened Owen. A little squirrel pounding rocks against a tree was what had scared him.

“Kid, are you sure you’re a turtle and not a chicken?” asked the squirrel.

“Don’t tease my little brother,” said Shany. “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid.”

“What? I heard you laughing at him earlier too,” said the squirrel.

“Yeah, but I only tried to get him out of his shell,” said Shany. “I didn’t try to scare him.”

“Well, I’m not afraid of storms and all I have is a bushy little tail,” said the squirrel.  “Why, if I had a shell like his I wouldn’t be afraid of anything.”

“I saw you running away from a stray cat yesterday,” said Shany.

“Yeah, so what?” said the squirrel.

“You were scared to death of that cat, but that cat didn’t scare me.”

“What are you saying?” asked the squirrel.

“Everybody gets scared sometimes. Why is my brother being afraid of thunderstorms any different from you being afraid of a cat?”

The squirrel knew that Shany had made a good point, so he just shook his head and darted out of sight.

“Wow.  Thank you,” said Owen.  “You really are a great older sister.”

“As I said before, Owen, that’s my job.”

“You know, sis, I’ve learned something today. I may not like thunderstorms, but being afraid of them isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

“That’s right, little brother.  And it takes courage to know that.”

As Owen and Shany journeyed to find Pike Lake, Owen felt proud about having gained the courage to finally leave his shell.

Throughout his life Owen would encounter many thunderstorms to be sure, but none were as scary as the first one. That’s because Owen never looked at them the same way again.

And oh how he loved telling his grandchildren about the summer lightning bounced off his shell!

But don’t take my word for it – just ask Roxie.

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Feelings, Being Scared, Family

1. Do you think Owen was right to be scared of the lightning? Why or why not?

2. What did being scared of everything prevent Owen from doing?

3. Was Owen scared of things that were really scary?

4. How did Owen overcome his fears?

5. Has someone in your family ever helped you stop being scared of something? How did they do it?

Bedtime story written by Artie Knapp

In-text illustrations by Aja Mulford

The post The Shell Shocked Turtle first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

At first, Alfred’s neighbors were mad at the way his yard made the whole neighborhood look. Many folks in town were so fed up that they offered to cut Alfred’s grass for free, but Alfred refused any help. He was determined to cut his own lawn.

As Alfred’s grass grew to historic heights, the whole town of Belvar eventually embraced the jungle known as Alfred’s yard. The Mayor of Belvar even declared Alfred’s yard a town landmark. Next to the clouds in the sky, Alfred’s yard was the tallest thing in town. Alfred didn’t like all of the attention his yard was receiving though, and he felt embarrassed at how tall his grass had become.

One evening, after yet another failed attempt to buy a working lawnmower, Alfred was ready to give up on finding a way to mow his jungle-of-a-yard. Then out of nowhere a faint little bleat from a goat could be heard in the distance. Alfred’s face lit up like a Christmas tree upon hearing the goat’s bleat. Alfred felt he found the solution to cutting his lawn, because goats love to eat grass, and any goat would be thrilled to feast in Alfred’s yard.

After climbing up the grass in his yard and looking down at the telephone poles, Alfred worked his way out of his yard and darted to the nearest farm. The Cline family lived down the road from Alfred, and they had several kinds of animals on their farm. In addition to chickens, cattle and hogs, the Clines had one little caramel colored goat with dark stockings. She was a friendly little goat, but the Cline family seldom paid her much attention. The little goat felt lonely and spent most of her days walking aimlessly in the green pasture. When Alfred approached the Cline family about his idea, Mr. Cline and his entire family started to laugh hysterically. And it didn’t stop there! The chickens, cattle and hogs nearby all laughed, too.

“That’s one lazy loppin goat,” declared Mr. Cline. “You can have her for free.”

“May I ask why you feel the goat is lazy?” asked Alfred.

“It doesn’t want to work. It doesn’t want to do much of anything,” said Mr. Cline.

“Well, since you’re offering her for free, I don’t have anything to lose,” said Alfred.

“Very well,” said Mr. Cline. “She’s all yours.”

As Alfred walked across the Cline’s farm in search of the little goat, several of the farm animals were still laughing.

“Good luck with that goat. You’re going to need it,” said one of the chickens.

The chicken’s comment made all the other animals laugh even harder. Alfred ignored the animals’ laughter and spotted the little goat down on the meadow. As Alfred approached the little goat, she lifted her head out of the creek she was drinking from to see what he wanted.

“Excuse me, my name is Alfred, and I live down the road from here.”

“How do you do?” asked the little goat.

“I am fine, thanks. Do you have a name?” asked Alfred.

“Yes,” replied the little goat. “My name is Irene.”

“Well, very nice to meet you, Irene. I just spoke with Mr. Cline, and he said that I could be your new owner.”

“What do you mean?” asked the little goat. “What did he get in return?”

“Nothing, he gave you to me for free. Mr. Cline said you’re lazy and don’t like to work. Is that true?”

“No, sir, it’s not,” replied the little goat. “I love to work, but nobody on this farm understands that.”

“Well, I’ve got a situation I was hoping you could help me with. Come with me and we’ll discuss it along the way,” said Alfred.

The little goat’s feelings were hurt that the Cline family was so willing to give her away for free, but she thought moving might be the new start she was looking for. As Alfred and the little goat walked toward his home, Alfred’s yard became visible almost immediately.

“What in the world is that?” asked the little goat.

“That’s my yard,” replied Alfred.

“Wait a minute. I’ve heard of you. You’re that Lambert fellow with the yard that touches the sky.”

Alfred couldn’t believe that his yard had become gossip even among farm animals.

“Yes, that’s my yard,” replied Alfred. “The height of my grass is why you’re coming with me. I need my grass to be down to a respectable height.”

“First of all, you don’t need a goat for that, Alfred, you need about 25 combines,” said the little goat. “Secondly, I am allergic to grass.”

“You’re joking, right?” asked Alfred.

“No, I’m not,” replied the little goat.

Alfred became upset at the little goat, because he thought she was lying to him.

“How can a goat be allergic to grass? Don’t you live for that stuff?”

“Grass isn’t cotton candy, Alfred,” replied the little goat. “And since when do any of us decide what we’re allergic to?”

“I don’t buy this for one second,” said Alfred. “It’s like Mr. Cline said – you’re a lazy loppin’ goat.”

Fed up with Alfred not believing her, the little goat walked over to the side of Alfred’s yard and took a huge bite out of it. Almost immediately after taking the bite of grass, the little goat broke out in green and purple polka dots. Alfred couldn’t believe his eyes. After just one bite of grass, Alfred had a rainbow-colored goat on his hands.

“I’m really sorry,” said Alfred. “I should have believed you. Can I get you anything?”

“Yes,” replied the little goat. “I need some fresh water and something to help settle my stomach.”

“I thought goats were supposed to be garbage disposals,” said Alfred.

“That’s what everyone at the Cline farm thought too,” said the little goat. “I’m not a lazy loppin’ goat, Alfred, I just happen to be a goat that’s allergic to grass.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to stay here anyway. I’ll just find something else for you to do if you can’t eat grass,” said Alfred.

“I’ll tell you what, Alfred, I’ll help you mow this yard, and all I’ll need in return is just two things,” said the little goat.

“Just two things?” asked Alfred. “Name it. Anything you want.”

“As you now know, I can’t eat grass, but what I do love to eat is lima beans. I can’t get enough of them,” said the little goat. “That’s the first thing I’ll need.”

“Well, that’s easy enough,” said Alfred. “What’s the second thing you’ll need?”

“The second thing is really more for us than just me,” said the little goat.

“What is it?” asked Alfred.

The little goat tapped her hoof on Alfred’s lawnmower and said, “We’ll need gas for the lawnmower, Alfred. We’ll need gas for the lawnmower.”

THE END

Let’s Chat About The Stories ~ Ideas for Talking With Kids

Healthy Eating, Conversation

1. If one food could cause you to get green and purple polka dots from eating it, what would it be?

2. What do you think is healthy food for you? Why?

Bedtime story written by Artie Knapp

In-text illustrations by Aja Mulford

The post The Lazy Loppin’ Goat first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

As my friends and I walked along.

Then we heard the sound,

Oh that beat, to a great, great song.

It was the day of the Hippo Hop Dance,

That we learned comes once a year.

And no matter who they were,

They just knew, that they had to be there.

Hippos were everywhere; they were jumping,

They were moving their feet.

They threw their hands, up in the air,

Just grooving to the beat!

That safari turned out to be,

Much more than we could hope.

It’s not often, that one sees,

Hippos dancing and jumping rope.

People ask, where’s the photos?

For a tradition so long and proud.

And I am quick, to let them know,

That no cameras were allowed.

© Artie Knapp 2020

Poem for Kids written by Artie Knapp

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE POEM ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Creativity

1. Can you dance like you imagine the hippos would have danced?

Independent Thinking

1. What kind of dance moves do you think would be impossible for a hippo to do?

The post The Hippo Hop Dance first appeared on Bedtime Stories.

That’s where I will be;

Enjoying the thrills of outer space,

And all there is to see.

A quick trip to Mars,

Is the first place I will go!

Then it’s off to see Saturn’s rings,

And after that, who knows.

For now though, I’ll stay put;

Mom said lunch is at noon.

But after that, I’ll take-off;

My ship is in my room.

Poem for Kids written by Artie Knapp

© Artie Knapp 2020 Illustrations by Chung Oh

LET’S CHAT ABOUT THE POEM ~ IDEAS FOR TALKING WITH KIDS

Creativity

1. What would you do, if you could go up into space?

2. How would you make the rocket?

The post Ceiling to the Stars first appeared on Bedtime Stories.