The Big Tea Pot

Permit me this shameless bragging over poetry written by my son Sam.  His assignment was to write a poem from the perspective of a minor character in a children’s story or song.  Sam, now 13, was always the cutest little tea pot when he was a baby.  Sigh.

The Big Tea Pot, at a Funeral, 2011

He was a little

teapot.

I always heard him

singing.

He was never picked

for sports.

Not only was he

short,

But he was kind of

stout.

He had a little

handle,

And he had a little

spout.

Then one day all the

teapots

Went to the amusement

park.

But that poor little

teapot

Was too little to

ride the rides.

He got all steamed

up.

We all heard him

shout.

Until someone tipped

him over

And poured him out.