The Pretend Series
By Joanna Leigh
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About this ebook
The Pretend Series is a series of poems about children's imagination. These poems are sure to show the strength of a child's thoughts in a make believe world.
These poems are for boys and girls as well as adults. Parents will laugh along with their child during a reading of this poetry and enjoy the rhyming words as well as the story.
Joanna Leigh
I have been writing since the age of 12. I am now 28 years old and I love it just the same. I love writing poetry and stories for all ages. But after having my two wonderful boys and having the privilege of staying at home with them, I love writing for children and my 6 and 3 year old are surely my inspiration everyday. I have had several poems published in poetry anthologies and I have won the following awards for my poetry: 2 Award of Merit Certificates for two poems in 1990. Golden Poet 1990 Golden Poet 1991 Golden Poet 1992 along with Induction into the Homer Honor Society. Editor's Choice Award in 1993 Who's Who in New Poets in 1996 Writing is my passion. It is something I love to do and I love sharing my poetry with everyone. My motto for everyday is, TO BE A STAR IS TO SHINE LIKE ONE! Joanna Leigh
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Book preview
The Pretend Series - Joanna Leigh
A PRETEND HUNTER
I have on my camouflage shirt,
I am a hunter even though I walk on make believe dirt.
I have my toy gun close at hand,
I am a true hunting man.
I hunt something different everyday. It could be a rabbit, squirrel, or deer.
And underneath the brim of my cap, I do not hold any fear.Yesterday I was making my way through a thick of trees, When the sight of the dinosaur I was chasing brought me to my knees.
It was a Tyrannosaurus Rex and I reached for my gun with my heart in my gut,
I turned to run away and shot him over my shoulder just before his sharp teeth bit my butt.
I can go hunting all year long. I don’t have to wait till it gets cold,
And on a non-animal day, I go hunting for gold.
I just use my imagination,
I am a hunter even though I’m imitation.
JUNGLE OF A DREAM
Dinosaurs. Dinosaurs. Dinosaurs. I see them all around,
The sound of my loud beating heart is the only sound.
I reach for my toy gun and fire a shot,
I chase the sweat off my eyebrows with the back of my hand for I am hot.
I swallow the lump of fear in my throat,
As I decide to run past the dinosaur towards my awaiting boat.
I hear his loud footsteps chasing me and the earth shakes under me,
I’m hoping that I run so fast that the bottom of my shoes is
all he can see.
I don’t waste time looking back at the dinosaur,
I am running for a quick get-a-way to my boat and I know what for.
I only have one more plastic bullet. Not to mention, my legs are tired and my breathing is getting weak as it seems,
I’m shooting at him with my arm behind my back and the tree leaves are slapping me in my face as I try to push them away through this jungle of a dream.
Just a few more steps and I’ll be in my boat and into another hunting scare,
Fighting even a bigger dinosaur if my imagination will dare.
I look back and see him dead on the ground,
Dinosaurs. Dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are all around.
A PRETEND COWBOY
I’m a cowboy walking on dusty streets with my hands
resting on my gun holster and a mean grin.
In a showdown, I am faster than any when drawing my toy
gun and I win.
Yes, I will,
I shoot to chill.
Before putting my gun back, I blow the smoke rings away, I fight Indians and dodge their bow and arrows everyday.
It doesn’t matter if the Indian is my red headed brother. I pretend he’s a bad guy,
And with the lights off, it’s a dark western sky.
When the stillness of the dark falls and my head is resting
with my hat shadowing my face,
I’m under the stars and for a cowboy like me, it’s the perfect resting place.
My night sky is glow in the dark stars stuck to my bedroom
ceiling,
But, that’s okay. It gives me the real ‘cowboy sleeping in nature’ feeling.
The big rock I hide behind is a large green sofa chair, And if I peek around, I see the Indian giving me a look saying, BEWARE!
My cowboy hat is on straight,
I look to see how many bullets I have left. I don’t want to wait too late.
My bullets are made from a water stream,
But, it’s okay to dream.
My horse is a bicycle I see across the way,
I can try and escape without being hit by my brother. The
one that’s pretending to be an Indian on this day.
I make a run for it and just as I get on my bike and say,
Getty-up.
I feel the plastic of his arrow on my Cowboy Butt!
COWBOY AND INDIAN
I’ve got to be quiet and sneak up to the Indians tent,
It’s