Kids Poems To Jingle Your Christmas Tingle

I have a little brother, George,
who's not been very well.
His hair fell out at first,
and he's tired all the time.

George wants a puppy for Christmas,
but Dad say he's too poorly,
and that a dog is for life,
not just for Christmas.

My brother might be in heaven,
before the dog is even one.
I said I'd take care of it afterwards,
but Daddy shook his head.

I sat by myself in the garden,
and spotted a little ant.
He spotted me too,
and ran onto the end of my finger.

I had an idea,
and took my new friend inside.
I made him a tiny lead,
out of purple cotton.

At the hospital that night,
when Mum and Dad went for coffee,
I gave George a tiny box,
and told him to be careful.

He opened it and saw the ant.
"It's a puppy," I whispered,
“with a purple lead."
My brother grinned.

I put the ant on the bed,
and taught George how to walk him,
across the giant hills,
of his Batman duvet cover.

"He’s the smallest puppy
in the whole wide world," I told him.
"Cool!" he said,
and hid him in his box.

Mum and Dad were shocked,
next time we went to see George -
he was out of bed, standing up,
walking his puppy with the nurses.

The doctor had a quiet word,
with Mum and Dad in the corner.
They stared at me.
Then all three of them smiled.

George got better and better.
The doctor said it was a miracle.
Then something really sad happened -
George's puppy died.

Dad told me all about ants -
that they don’t live very long.
"Just like George," I said.
"Not anymore," Dad smiled.

George was going to be OK!
Everyone said it was the magic ant.
"You mean the puppy!" I told them.
"The tiniest puppy in the world!" George said.

At home, me and George buried him.
We made his purple lead
into a heart shape,
and put it on top his grave.

Then Dad called us into the house,
to give us a special surprise.
"A puppy!" I yelled.
But George was deadly serious.

"That's not a puppy," he said,
"it's an ant, silly.
The biggest ant in the world!"
We both burst out laughing.

Our little puppy began to bark,
and chased us outside,
past the daffodils,
and into the garden.

©2009 Mark C Bird

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