The Dr. Seuss Challenge
The Iron Writers pay tribute to the late Theodor Seuss Geisel, a.k.a. Dr. Seuss.
Dr. Seuss was an American writer, poet, and cartoonist and most widely known for his children’s books he wrote and illustrated.
In honor of his birthday, which is March 2, we at The Iron Writer offer this simple challenge: write a 200 to 500 word story in the style of Dr. Seuss.
One Mooseby Dani J Caile
One moose, two moose, fat moose, thin moose.
Some are very small, while others seem quite tall. Oh, let’s have a ball!
Some are old, and some are bold. Some have colds and some have mould.
Why do some have colds and mould? I guess it won’t be told.
Some are happy, some are snappy. This one has a little nappy.
Here are some who like to chat, here are some who like big hats.
Here are some who like to scat, here are some who have pet rats.
Some have great clothes, others have big toes.
Some like to compose, others, well, who knows?
Some are funny, some have money, some like little furry bunnies.
Some have short tails, some have long nails, some like swimming with the blue whales.
This one’s name is Tom, he loves to take his Mom to go and see the Prom.
This one’s name is Fred, he loves his comfy bed to rest his weary head.
Why does Fred love his bed? I guess because it’s cherry red.
None of them is like the other, they all grew up with diff’rent mothers.
So come along and see the moose, but don’t forget the orange juice.
Oh, the Places You’ll Go!
by B Y Rogers
This Saturday day, if your heart is all chilled,
Come visit my place and your soul will be healed.
I’ll take you to places where just the two of us go,
I’ll take us both there, ‘cause we know what we know.
Oh, the places you’ve been, since you were age eight,
That endless adventure when you chose your own fate.
It began on the day, on the day it was certain,
You stood on your feet and became your own person.
That Saturday day, when I felt your first sigh,
When you to your youth waved a final goodbye,
Oh the places you went since you reached for the sky,
When you jumped off the cliff without asking why.
I was sitting there, watching you, just a book on the shelf,
Just waiting and watching ‘till you woke to yourself.
You opened my cover, all shiny and bright,
You read your first word and squealed with delight.
Then page upon page went straight to your head,
From sun up to sundown and long after bed.
Oh the places you went, till your head was well fed
Every thought that you thought came from the books that you read.
Oh, the places you went you’ll never regret,
The characters you loved you’ll never forget.
First Atticus and Gatsby, then Valjean and Lord Jim,
Strong Catherine, young Scout and old Miss Havishim.
Oh the places you hid, away from it all,
Where you learned to feel each time I gave call.
Past heaven and hell, through life and through death,
You drew me all in, in a single deep breath.
This Saturday day, when your heart is all chilled,
Go to the place where your soul will be healed.
This Saturday day, when your heart is quite full,
To the place where you drink from my unfathomable soul.
When Adam Gets Mad
by Tannis Laidlaw
(Apologies to Dr. Seuss and especially to the lack of the wonderful illustrations that should accompany this poem – please use your imagination!)
Adam gets mad
at his Mum and his Dad
He isn’t allowed
to be so loud
when whistling and singing his songs.
When Adam gets mad
his cries are so bad
that everyone says he just SHRIEKS.
(’Course everyone seeks
to get him to quiet right down).
As Adam cries out
his lower lip pouts
then comes his SHRIEK
which is as loud as an owl’s.
Adam sometimes kicks out
when he squeals and he shouts…
The noise he makes
is like trucks which brake
but their SHRIEK is no louder than Adam’s.
When Adam starts in
He makes such a din
The parrot next door
can fall down on the floor,
with a massively parroty SHRIEK
along with a parroty spasm.
You don’t care???
Adam has the greatest
the absolute richest
sleekest and the rudest
SHRIEK that is hurled
out into the world!
The Brother Battle
When you have a bigger brother and you add another brother and one distracted mother there will be a brother battle.
And in the brother battle you can be sure that one will paddle the brother on the buttle then it becomes a brother buttle paddle battle.
Then the other other brother will get knocked into the wall, and his toses go where noses go and he begins to squall.
Then the mom runs from the bathroom in just her underpants and does the brotherbattlepaddlebuttlewallingsquallingItoldyoualling dance.
Then the sister sees the paddle and comes in in a rush cause it turns out that the paddle is a dolly brush and she’s pulling and she’s tugging and she begins to whine “I told him not to touch it I told him it was MINE.”
You have a WhinyMineyPickedabadtimey kabiblings of some siblings.
Then momma points a finger that is pointy, nostrils flaring and she’s still pantsy dancing but right now she’s not caring and she’s roaring and no more-ing THEN you have a whineymineypaddledbuttledwallingsquallingpoutyinTime-Outy.
The dog on the log
by Maureen Larter
There we were
A family of four
A day so sunny
We thought it was funny.
We went out in the car
And we hadn’t gone far
When we saw in a bog
A dog on a log
The dog looked at me
And I thought he could see
That my sister and I
Wanted so much to say ‘Hi!’
With a loud bark and a wail
He wagged his long tail
And before you could say
He sat on the seat,
With his big muddy feet.
My Dad looked around
And started to frown
My Mum gave a yell
And said ‘Well! Well!
A dog is not what we need
It’s not a done deed’
‘But can’t we please keep him’,
I said with a wail
As the dog continued to wag,
his long, furry tail.
My sister spoke then
She cried like a hen
Tears on her face
were quite a disgrace.
But Mum and Dad weakened
and I knew we might win!
‘What if I named him’ I said with a grin
‘Spot, or Kim
or even Tin Tin?’
I swore that the dog from the log
Was agog and wanted to jog
He barked and even looked happy
He really was a lovely chappy.
The day got cloudy
And the picnic was rowdy
But then came the rain
And hail – such a pain!
We got back in the car
With the dog from the log
And my ma and my pa
Drove home through the fog.
Our dog was still with us and we’d named him Barry.
We were finally home, and happy as Larry
Oh, the Lawns You’ll Mow
by Kathy DiSanto
I have a lawn. It must be mowed.
Mowed because of grass I sowed.
I’ll mow it good. I’ll mow it right.
I’ll mow when I get home tonight.
I’ll wear old clothes, nice and loose.
And while I mow, I’ll think of Suess.
When I mow I sweat and gasp.
My bangs are on my on forehead plast.
I push and grunt ’til out of breath.
Scare the neighbors half to death!
The kiddies scream aloud with fright,
And cars run off the road. All right?
Now at last the lawn is mowed.
My sneakers are all greeny toed,
But my grass is neat, my grass is short.
No creatures died of any sort.
The neighbors can kick back and chill,
‘Cuz of mowing I have had my fill.