PETER, TURNIPS AND HIS MA

Peter picked his big, sweet turnips, from the ground they swelled within,

Peter picked them in the morning, and placed them in his turnip bin,

Peter fried the turnips in grease and butter,

Then he fed them to his grinning, old mutter,

She would say "that a boy", as hot grease and drool dripped down her chin.

CAN I FRY FISH?

On my fishing trip I forgot my frying pan,

So, off to the store I quickly ran,

But, at the nearby store called Corn Cobs,

They had only sticks for kabobs,

So, I fried my fish in an old coffee can.

WHEN I EAT PERCH AND THEN SLEEP

Every time I eat fried perch and then sleep,

I dream I'm swimming in out waters, in the way dark and deep,

I'm chased by walleye while, tiny fry are my meat,

I make quick choices to survive and maybe to eat,

And, all around I sense monsters: in the darkness they creep.