In the dead of winter
When trees are fast asleep
The sap is creeping slowly
From roots frozen in the deep

Branches bare, encrusted
Ice both a prison and an art
Beneath that frigid stillness
What dreams consume their hearts?

Do they dream of sunshine?
Warm rays, caressing light?
Of birds with trilling music?
Fresh clothing, green and bright?

Perhaps they dream of freedom
Of roots pulling out of dirt
Of crossing the horizon
Roaming, watchful and alert

Or are their dreams much darker?
Full of mist and damp and gloom?
Do they conjure ghosts of saplings
To bring careless humans doom?

Or their dreams may be too alien
Thoughts hidden deep like roots that curl
For though we share the same bright planet
We inhabit different worlds

Still I cannot stop returning
I would ask them if I could
What they dream in dead of winter
In this silent, ice-bound wood

I

I heard the most amazing news today
The scientists discovered something new
Looking into space so far away
They checked and double-checked that it was true

For in the vast and empty reach of space
A planet floats that doesn’t have a star
No shining sun that pulls it into place
It’s all alone to drift however far

Now if you’ve studied planets at your school
You know that’s not the way it’s meant to be
That planets orbit stars is just the rule
They move in circles, bound by gravity

So how could this one be there all alone?
And with no star how does it chart its course?
What tragic past has left it on its own?
How it must miss an outside guiding force

How terrifying sailing through the night
With no real place to go,  it’s all just wrong
They called it “Lonely Planet” which seems right
For space is huge with nowhere you belong

II

“The Lonely Planet?” What a brilliant thought.
A body in the heavens who broke free
To challenge everything our teachers taught
By very definition it can’t be

Imagine! The impossible exists
A wonderful exception to the rules
Something that won’t fit on any lists
An inspiration for all daring fools

Instead of endless circles, it roams free
No star to tell it which way it must go
A universe of possibilities
Its future unpredictable, unknown

It may feel scared, if it can feel at all
(It is a ball of rock, we must admit)
But fear just adds a thrill, adventure calls
To break the mold is better than to fit

You guys!  That was summer.  All of it.  And now you know why I don’t home school.  I mean, one of the many reasons I don’t home school.  We did a total of 2 entries in our adventure diary.  We had fun with it.  I think we may do more sometime.  But I just couldn’t stick to any kind of routine during summer.  I just couldn’t.  So here we are.  And summer is done.  Well, it’s barely the middle of August, but my kids are back in school, so I’m back to posting all on my own.  I have some stories brewing, but let’s ease in with a poem today.

Two, four, six, eight…
I cannot keep these numbers straight!
Four, eight, twelve, sixteen…
In my head they’re all mixing.

Five times four and ten times two
Both make twenty (I wish I was through)
And then there’s seven times stupid eight
Which makes 56 (and my head ache)

So nine times nine…um, 81?
Oh will this torture ever be done?
Across my brain these numbers tumble
Three, ten, thirty in a jumble!

Six times seven? It makes no sense!
I’d say 42, but I’m too dense.
This multiplication stuff is a blight.
Wait…what do you mean I got them all right?

The best part?
The tire swing
All twisty and turny,
The smell of my sunscreen
(so I don’t get sunburny),
Big chunks of ice
In my mom’s lemonade,
The sprinkler
where hot skin can go to get sprayed,
Late bedtimes
With fireflies filling the night,
The crickets
all singing the sun out of sight.

Millicent Margaret Magoo
Never had nothin’ to do
When her friends were out playin’
She’d be inside sayin’
“I’m bored, and I can’t make it through!”

Millie’s room was jam-packed with her toys
Toys that lit up and spun and made noise
Still she laid on the couch
And she moaned like a grouch
“They’re all boring! My life has no joys!”

All the books in the house left her flat
Pens and papers and crayons just sat
While wee Millie just moaned
“I’ve got nothing,” she groaned.
And she whimpered and whined like a brat.

When summer came, Millie was home
All day, every day she wouldn’t roam
Her parents felt trapped
Until one day they snapped
And bought one, one-way ticket to Nome

In Alaska sits Nome in the cold
Keeping warm keeps you busy, I’m told
There’s no boredom there
But there are polar bears
So dear Millie should have her hands full

I’d like to have a snack, if you would be so kind
A slice of cake is best, but a cupcake will be fine.
No cake, you say? The sugar will just go to my head?
Well, fine, I guess I’ll settle for a muffin instead.
A muffin’s just like cake? Whatever do you mean?
Ingredients? Well, I don’t know, but there is no frosting.
Okay, I’ll take a chocolate chip peanut granola bar.
And something to go with it because that will not go far.
Some yogurt-covered raisins and a fruit roll up should do.
And don’t forget the juice because I sure am thirsty, too.

What now? What is that face? Why do you push me out the door?
An apple? A banana? Wait, there must be something more!
I’m hungry! No, I’m starving! I need more than fruit can give!
A slice of cheese? No this is not…mmmm…cheese. Okay, I’ll live.

I saw a flying saucer today
I was lying on my back on the warm green grass
I looked up at the sky and there it was
Round and white and moving very slow
It landed on a swan
And with the lightest touch, the swan turned into a giraffe
The giraffe stretched out its neck
And broke into two pieces
Which turned into airplanes and flew at the space ship
But now the space ship was a tree
And the airplanes landed gently in its branches
And they all floated slowly off on the breeze
As I lay on my back on the warm green grass

A silly-name person in an odd-colored hat
Some funny action and an upset cat
Lots of rhyming words and a goofy twist
Perhaps a small moral so it won’t be missed

(This is the poem I meant to write
But I find I don’t have it in me tonight
Laughter is for every day but silliness is not
So for now this feeble offering is all I’ve got.)