Swirling Mad

Upon once a time,
There lived a young girl
Who loved above all
To swirl and to twirl.
It seemed a bit strange,
She’d swirl when she woke,
While brushing her teeth,
And twirl when she spoke.
In class at her school,
She’d swirl in her chair
While twirling her pencil
In swirls in her hair.
Her parents at home
Said, “Stop this at once.
Our heads won’t stop swirling
From all of your stunts.”
But she didn’t hear
A word that they said,
Too busy twirling
Her thoughts in her head.
They sighed with a shrug,
What else could they do?
This was the first case
Of such that they knew.
The one silver lining
For which they were glad –
She, unlike their son,
Didn’t hop away mad.

© Sonya Annita Song

The Bippity Boppity Hopper

There once was a boy
Who went hippity hop
Everywhere that he went
With a bippity bop.
He’d hop up the stairs
One by one with a “bop,”
And down stairs he would “bip”
Every step with a hop.
He loved to go
Hippity hopping along
While singing his
Bippity boppity song.
Even at school he would
Hop in his chair,
And his bips and his bops,
Though quiet, were there.
His parents would ask,
“Why must you hippity hop?
And the bipping and bopping
Must lickety stop!”
And though he was busy
With bops in his head
While hopping on one foot,
He heard what they said.
“Fine! Then I’ll take all
My bippity bopping
Where no one can tell me
To be lickety stopping!”
And so he went
Hippity hopping away,
And where he is now, bip,
No one, bop, can say.

– Written by the B.B.H. 😉

© Sonya Annita Song


My couch is a grouch.
It constantly moans.
Whenever I sit,
It grumbles and groans.
It eats all my socks
And steals all my change.
My friends even say,
“It’s really quite strange.”
It hates when I spill
Or drop any food
And rubs at my skin
To tell me I’m rude.
But I understand,
Yes, I think I do –
If I were sat on,
I’d be a grouch too!

© Sonya Annita Song

The Sun and Moon

The Sun and Moon, with fork and spoon,
Have dinner every night
Of moonshine gleams and sunshine beams
To taste each other’s flight.

The Moon will cry, “My tongue! Oh my!
Why is there so much heat?”
“And yours is cold,” the Sun will scold,
“Too cold I cannot eat.”

And so they leave what they perceive
A dinner not done right
And then proceed to go and feed
More thankful appetites.

© Sonya Annita Song

The Wind

They say the wind has lips
Because the wind can blow,
And truly it does kiss
My cheeks, my ears, my nose.

But not just lips, as well,
The wind has hands and feet,
I’m often slapped about
And winded so to speak.

A tongue to taste the world,
It samples in its jaws
The flavors rich and deep
And textures smooth and raw.

But ears it does not have,
A silent world it lives,
It cannot hear you shout,
But kisses it will give.

© Sonya Annita Song

A Little Nutty

Peanut Butter was a guy
Who never compromised,
For surely, he thought,
Nobody is nuttier than I.

As king of all the nuts
You’d find him almost anywhere –
Sometimes lurking in your fridge
Or nibbling on your hair.

“Oh, that’s your fault,” he’d quickly say
If ever he was caught,
“Your fridge seemed rather lonely,” or
“Your hair was in a knot.”

And then he’d blob his way along
In peanut butter style
With sticky satisfaction
At his buttered use of guile.

He ate his peanuts every day
To keep him nice and strong,
And blobbing back and forth real slow,
You’d hear him sing this song:

Peanut Butter is the best!
I dare you to defy
That there is anybody who
Is nuttier than I.”

And as he sang his nutty song,
He saw a girl named Jelly
Whose blush made all the nuts whirl round
Inside his peanut belly.

And though she saw him coming from
Almost a mile away,
She let him come and take her hand
In globbish disarray.

Peanut Butter is the best
Is what I used to think,
But the two of us together
Would be deliciously in sync.
So take my peanut butter hand
And be my Queen of Jelly,
And I will always keep you warm
With all my peanut belly.”

© Sonya Annita Song

Disclaimer:  No actual nuts were used in the creation of this poem.

100% of illustration funding goal met.
Illustrations have begun.
Estimated date to market: May 1.

A Wish

Our Earth is a wish a star made,
A long, long time ago.
Star traveled throughout space to find
A place where wish could grow.

The Sun took pity on the star
And gave it warmth and love
And told the Earth when it was sad
To simply look above

For Sun would always light the way,
No need to be afraid,
For it was also once a wish
That someone else had made.

© Sonya Annita Song