Oh! The things I have read (by a man, alas dead):
There were eggs that were green! And a fish that was red!
And a fox wearing socks (although otherwise bare!)
And a Cat in a hat, with exceptional flair!
And butter! In battles! And Sneetches with stars!
And the Sneetches without, and their star, no-star wars!
And a turtle named Yertle who toppled a king!
And the one-and-two creatures who shared the name “Thing!”
Oh the books! Oh the topics! Oh the rhymes that were freed!
Oh the Grinch on his sleigh, oh the strange-looking Thneed!
There were places to go! There were things you could think!
There was snow that was totally covered with pink!
There were Wockets in pockets! Unusual pets!
There was hopping on Pop! (Which this father regrets!)
There were made up locations, like Brigger-ba-Root!
and fantastical creatures like Brown Bar-ba-loots!
And Ham-ikki-Schnim-ikka-Schnam-ikka-Schnopp!
And the beautiful Schlopp with a cherry on top!
A book for your birthday! A book when you’re old!
A book for a war that was markedly cold!
There was old Mr. Brown who could certainly Moo!
There was Horton who would not abandon that Who!
There were even more books, far too many to list,
but the ones that I’ve mentioned should give you the gist.
My childhood was better for reading them all,
I would read them in Spring, and in Summer, and Fall;
I would read them in Winter, when chilly winds blew!
(Diurnal and Autumnal Equinox too!)
I would read them by day, I would read them by night,
(I would turn on a lamp if I needed the light)
And when I was done with the books that he wrote,
Then I grabbed for my hat, and I put on my coat,
And I looked, oh I looked, and found new things to read.
And that is the moral – his books were a seed:
And it brought forth a harvest of wonderful things,
there were stories of villains, and heroes, and kings,
Each page an adventure to take me away,
on a rain-dreary morning, or lazy hot day,
and I never recovered, I’m happy to say,
for I picked up my own pen and did it my way.
And perhaps you might someday read one of my books…
(found discarded, perhaps, in the book-reading nooks
that you’ll find in a place where a book-reader searches,
as you sit in a place where a book-reader perches),
Remember, that day, as you read what I writ,
if you think that you like it – just one little bit!
Please remember to smile, give a tip of the hat
to my first inspiration… you can thank Seuss for that.
