Sometimes you write a poem that you know will not fit into any of your children's poetry collections but just makes you laugh.
There you sit, big and wide,
Waiting for me to put something inside.
Uh uh. Forget it. I’m not climbing on.
You’ll take all my insides and then they’ll be gone.
I don’t want a sticker, a star or a treat,
I just want to go standing here on my feet.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll give you a try
But today it’s too late.
I think you know why.
© Jill Corcoran 2009