Excuses, Excuses

      I would like to jog,
      But the weatherman predicts fog.
      The treadmill doesn’t suit me,
      It always kills my sore knee.
    

Tomorrow, I will walk a mile, For that, let me rest awhile.

Dosage: Read aloud. Daily. ↺

The whole book, in your hands.

All 102 poems, every hand-drawn illustration, and the kind of thing a kid keeps on the shelf for years.

“Gives Shel Silverstein a run for his money.”Amazon reviewer

If this made you smile,

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