(I wrote the first six poems below to my mother, Muriel Brahinsky. The first three are from March 1963 [I was 6], the next three from October 1963 [age 7].)

I know you’re feeling really pops,
‘Cause you are, you are, you are tops.

I hope this May,
Will be a VERY VERY SPECIAL day.

Even if I wear a glove,
This is Mother: love, love, love
Because to my Mother if you say poo,
You are not at all true.

Mother, Mother I love you so much,
Even if it was my birthday I would love you such.
Even if we have to feed horses hay
I’ll do it on next Mother’s Day.

Mother, Mother you’re so sweet,
I’ll even help you make the beds look neat.
I know you’re sometimes VERY gay,
And I know you’ll be that on Mother’s Day.
And we’ll try to help you in every way.

On Mother’s Day you’re always tops,
And you never get arrested by traffic cops.
We’ll try to help you in every way,
Especially on Mother’s Day.

(The next poem was in honor of the State Fair of Texas, in Dallas.)

To The Fair (October 1963)

I don’t care,
If I go to the Fair,
Even on Thanksgiving Eve.
‘Cause popcorn, candy and hotdogs,
That’s what you receive.
It’s the best State Fair in the world,
It’s the best State Fair in the town.
‘Cause if I was at the State Fair,
I’d never make a frown.
On October 5th-20th
If you say you’re going there,
The place that you’re surely going,
Is surely To The Fair.

(The next nine poems were all written in October 1963. I was 7.)

Listen to the little clock.

Hear the great big Chinese gong.

With nails, hammers, pliers and a saw,
It’s almost impossible to break the law.

The best thing in the world to do,
Is to not do this with your shoe

A good thing to do,
Every Day,
Is to play and play and play and play.
It will really really help your wealth,
But especially it will help your health.
Playing is such a good thing to do,
If someone said “playtime” I’d never say poo.
It’s such a good thing to play and play,
I always do it,
(Every day).

(Spoony and Portia were a pair of beagles belonging to a couple my family had stayed with in Tulsa, Oklahoma, during our summer vacation in August 1963.)

Spoony and Portia are so very good,
They’re the best dogs in the neighborhood,
They’re so very nice,
(Anyone can tell that),
Because they always play with,
But not chase any cat.
Spoony and Portia are the best dogs known,
And they like almost everything,
But mostly a bone.
And they like to eat and eat,
But really, really they would like some meat.
As you know they like bones and meat,
And when you give them to them they think it’s a treat.

I’m Thankful

I’m thankful for the turkey,
I’m thankful for the corn.
I’m thankful for the trees and bushes,
I’m thankful to be born.
I’m thankful to be living,
I’m thankful to have food.
I’m thankful to have water,
And everything that’s good.

Once upon a time,
Not so long ago,
There was a little man,
Who just put on a show.
The audience clapped and clapped,
And they were very happy,
Because they showed these too:
His Mammy and his Pappy.


Traveling is so nice and good,
If it was summer I would travel,
I would.
Whenever you go or
Wherever you go,
To New York or Mexico,
If something’s going to break or crack up,
If you’re going on a trip you have to pack up.

Football and Baseball in New York City

In New York there’s the Giants and the Jets,
And the Yankees and the Mets.

The Seasons (November 1963)


Summer is very, very hot.
Is it cold?
Oh no it’s not!
Oh it is VERY VERY hot.
Is there snow?
Oh not a dot!
Don’t wear a jacket,
Don’t be a fool,
Take a swim in the swimming pool.

Fall (Autumn)

Here and there the leaves do fall,
In the basket,
On the wall.
Yellow, Red and orange and brown,
They are falling down, down, down!


Winter is very very cold.
If your mother says to put on a jacket,
Please, but Please, DO AS YOU’RE TOLD!
Winter’s as cold as cold can be,
If you go out in winter,


If you’ve seen Spring I’m sure you’ve seen,
The birds fly north and leaves turn green,
Blossoms and flowers are on the trees,
And they are occupied by bees.
Well, see what I mean when I talk about spring?
It is a very, very, nice thing.

Pickin’ Pecan Picnics (November 1963)

Here come the pecans!
All over the world!
And you know who likes them best?
That little old squirrel.