This plays off of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star by Jane Taylor.

If I twinkle really hard,
If I’m little like you are,
If I fly out really far,
Can I join you, little star?

How I wonder if I gave
Everything I’ve ever saved,
Would it be enough to fly
Up above the world so high?

Twinkle, twinkle, little star…

You don’t have to like me.
The world’s all kinds of grimy.
Anyone you meet could be
Cruel, corrupt, two-timey.

You don’t have to like me.
The way’s all kinds of windy.
Anyone you meet could be
Nicer, better, shiny.

You won’t find many like me.
I’m kindly known as “feisty.”
Anyone you meet would be:
“He’s crooked, buggy, bitey.”

You don’t have to like me.
You just can’t help yourself.

I never liked the ground,
It’s always been too there.
And I must say, as things abound,
There’s not much more than air.
Water, too, is easy found
By sky, on leaf, in lair.
And I must say, as things astound,
I’ll take the fiery rare.

Upton Frass switched heads with a wolf
‘Cause he wanted to better bark, howl and bite,
And Wolf wanted to know what it was like
To chit and chat and smile bright.

They did those things and found some others
That they hadn’t thought to think.
Frass sniffed and snuffed, he heard new things,
And Wolf used a cup to drink.

They shared a thought in both their heads
And both their bodies agreed –
They wanted to know what other heads knew,
You might even call it a need.

Wolf and Frass didn’t give their heads back,
They handed them off to other critters, in fact,
The day may come when their heads come back
But until that day, try ’em and pass ’em along in the pack.

Illustrated by Marissa whose art can be found here.

They say chin up and face your fears,
Live life loud, wash behind the ears,
Shoot for the stars, follow your dreams,
Much of the world is more than it seems,
But some is less, so take great care,
Love like the lost, hug like a bear,
Tend your garden, bark at secrets,
There’s only now, forget all regrets.

They say a lot, they say and say,
But still I long await the day,
For them to say, as I lay digestin’,
What to do when eaten by a lion…

Drawn by RegularRaccoon whose art can be found here.

The darkling sea lays secret siege
On any that cross her waves,
But even she salutes the brave
Who stand up in their graves.

The stony sea swallows all
That dare to fall and follow through,
Though she knows however deep the hole
You cannot sink a soul.

Every ship that has a crew
Holds a seedling soul there too.
When one gives up the loving sun
And is buried in the blackest blue
It plants itself in muddy brew
Then grows the way all tall tales grew,
Tearing through the doubting sea
Until what is is more than true!

A soul that sails and sees the sea
From underneath is quick to be
Back on the rise to waiting skies
As a rare seafaring tree.

These trees were born long, long ago
But only now are they free to grow
With dark waves flying far below.

There was a young lady whose clock,
Couldn’t hickory, dickory, dock;
When the hour struck,
It’d hoot and cluck,
And confound that old lady and clock.

There was an old man of Berlin,
Who grew a two-story pumpkin;
He sold it as a boat,
But it didn’t float,
That tricky old man of Berlin.

There was a young lady in gray,
Who wandered the hills every day;
Picking poppies and fruit,
All manner of loot,
To brighten that young lady in gray.

Silent Sunday.
Mum on Monday.
No talk Tuesday.
Wordless Wednesday.
Just think it Thursday.
Noise free Friday.
Speechless Saturday.

This is the Don’t Speak Week.
Not an eek, no not a squeak.

How long can you go without a word to say
Before your mouth just runs away?
Most don’t make it to Monday,
Though some go out the fun way.
Oh, yes!  Some people POP!
‘Cause they can’t handle the full foul mouth stop.

If you make it long enough
To call Loud on his blustery bluff
And cut the guff, the fluff, the huff and puff,
Then you just might hear some stuff.

When all your noise is put aside,
Nowhere’s left for Truth to hide,
Listen for your oh so soft song inside.

God gave me to an angel when I first came to be.
God gave me to an angel that dearly needed me.

Angel was to watch over, to guard and be a guide.
Every moment of my life she was right there by my side.

The day came I was old enough for her to show me she was there.
She stepped into right here from right out of nowhere.

She had gold in her eyes and a blue daisy crown.
Her lightning wings lit up a rumbling thunder cloud gown.

Seeing chance favored me, I laid the charm on thick.
I said, “Listen up, bud, this is gonna go quick.

“I lost my lucky dime last week and need to get it back.
I want a squid, my own moon and a fireball attack.

“I’d like a bug named after me, one that’s toothsome and bitey.
I’ll also need a tail – perhaps squirrel – something classy and mighty.”

Angel rudely interrupted, “That’s not really what I do.
Though, as it happens, your lucky dime’s in your left shoe.”

“I’m not a fairy godparent, a witch or devil dealer.
I’m more along the lines of a holy leader and healer.”

Looking up at my angel, the course of action was clear.
It didn’t take a seer to see I had to volunteer.

I offered up my lucky dime to this great beast of light.
I told her, “It’s okay now.  I’m here.  It’ll all be alright.”

Drawn by Dennis.

Illustrated by Adi.

Just as night seemed to tip away
It crawled right back at break of day
And crept upon young Tuckus.

He saw this shade appear and fled
And shrieked as he abandoned bed –
“What is this pocus hocus?!”

The chase was on, all bets were down,
Two step-in-step, no one gained ground,
What could Tuck do to win?

As day wore on the night beast tired,
It shrunk down, getting Tuck inspired,
But it roared back up again.

Tuck could not flee another step
So he turned to face this schlep
And also turned the battle.

Now the chasing is his turn,
Though one wonders when he’ll learn
He’s after nothing but his shadow.

Drawn by Kyle.