Me at age fourRecently, my mom sent me a book of poetry I wrote when I was four years old. Apparently, I dictated the poems to her, and she typed them on her typewriter. The book is bound in orange construction paper and very originally titled Poems by Alison. (I still have trouble with titles.) Here is an excerpt for your reading pleasure.
“A Panther on a Farm”
One time a panther lived on a farm,
But the cats did start meowing.
And when the panther got closer,
The dogs started bow-wowing.
No lions started roaring,
No elephants started hooting,
No camels started baa-ing,
And no galoshes were booting.
I am sitting here with a goofy grin on my face right now.
But really, I don't think I could have made so many lines that rhymed when I was four.
I am ha ha ha-ing! Lurve this.