This summary provides information about three poets in 3 sentences: Jack Prelutsky discovered his career as a writer accidentally at age 24 when he decided to write poems to accompany drawings he had made. Ogden Nash was a commercially successful poet of the 20th century known for his light verse and humor poems. Shel Silverstein began writing at age 12 as a way to occupy himself since he was unathletic and girls weren't interested in him.

1. Modern-Day
Whimsical Poetry
American Poets

2. Jack Prelutsky
1940-present:
“I'd always enjoyed playing with
language, but I had no idea I
would be a writer. I discovered
writing as a career only by
accident when I was about 24
years old. I had spent months
drawing several imaginary
animals, but one evening I
decided to write a little poem to
go with each drawing.” He is the
first ever U.S. Children's Poet
Laureate.

3. A Noble Knight-at-Arms
I am a noble knight-at-arms I ache to tilt at dragons
astride a noble steed, with my formidable lance,
employed upon a noble quest but swifter knights dispatch them first,
to do a noble deed. I seem to have no chance.
Alas, I’m unsuccessful, I hunt for monstrous ogres
though I ride from sun to sun, to eviscerate, but nay . . .
my quest goes unrewarded, They prudently absquatulate
and my deed remains undone. while I’m yet well away.
A paragon of chivalry, I’m similarly thwarted
I long to do no less at confronting evil trolls,
than rescue any rescuable who sensibly evacuate
damsels in distress. their pestilential holes.
Alack, I’m ineffectual, Deterred yet undiscouraged,
I find such damsels late, my resolve is never weak,
and earlier delivered though regularly tested
from an execrable fate. by my singular physique.

4. But half the height of other knights,
my girth is thrice as great.
My mount is discommoded
by my monumental weight.
At best it barely manages an apathetic trot.
My name is famed through all the land –
I’m called Sir Lunchalot.

5. The Lament of a Lonely Troll
I am, alas, a lonely troll,
My days are all the same,
I seldom see a single soul,
My neighbors fear my name.
Because I’m gruesome, grim, and gruff,
I’ve had no guests for years.
The situation’s bad enough
To drive a troll to tears.
I’m destined, it appears to me
to live my life alone,
But, desperate for company,
I’ve bought a telephone.
Feel free to call me, night or day,
No matter if I slumber,
And furthermore, you need not pay –
I’ve got a troll-free number.

6. The Parrots
The parrots, garbed in gaudy dress,
with almost nothing to express,
delight in spouting empty words . . .
They are extremely verbal birds.
Oblivious to all they say, they often talk the day away.
At times they open up their beaks
and ramble on for weeks and weeks.
The parrots, when they voice a word,
are imitating what they’ve heard,
and yet they seem to love to chat –
do you know anyone like that?

7. A Group of Moose
A group of moose, whose skulls were thick,
attempted some arithmetic.
Of course their efforts were no use,
their minds were but the minds of moose.
Addition was a hopeless act,
and likewise, they could not subtract.
Devoid of acumen and wit,
they could not multiply a bit.
Division was beyond them too,
they clearly did not have a clue.
Percentage just gave them pains,
and fractions overtaxed their brains.
Those addlepated moose were vexed,
uncomprehending, and perplexed.
“We’re through with math,” they sadly sighed. . . .

8. “Those numbers have us moostified.”

9. A Famous Monster
I am a famous monster
who roams from place to place,
renowned by reputation,
though few have seen my face.
My arms and legs are scrawny,
my torso is the same,
my hands are both gigantic,
they’re how I gained my fame.
Unlike my raucous colleagues,
who fill the air with roars,
I’m not by nature noisy,
until I knock on doors.
One knock is quite sufficient
to make a door collapse –
I’m called THE KNOCK-LESS MONSTER.
Do I exist? Perhaps!

10. Grasshopper Gumbo
GRASSHOPPER GUMBO
IGUANA TAIL TARTS
TOAD A LA MODE
PICKLED PELICAN PARTS
ELEPHANT GELATIN
FROG FRICASSEE
PUREE OF PLAYTPUS
BOILDED BUMBLEBEE
PORCUPINE PUDDING
STEAMED CENTIPEDE SKINS
SQUID SUCKER SUNDAES
FRIED FLYING FISH FINS
MEADOW MOUSE MORSELS
CRACKED CROCODILE CRUNCH
The school cafeteria
serves them for lunch.

11. Waffles Give Me Sniffles
Waffles give me sniffles,
chicken makes me itch,
toffee gives me toothaches,
tacos make me twitch.
Hot dogs give me fevers,
ice cream gives me chills.
If I nibble candy bars,
I’m green around the gills.
Pancakes make me queasy,
spaghetti makes me sneeze.
As soon as I eat pizza,
I get a weird disease.
Peanuts gives me pimples,
popcorn hurts my throat.
One taste of macaroni,
my body starts to bloat.
Raisins give me rashes,
bananas make me shake.
If I bite a burger,
I get a bellyache.
The moment I try chocolate,
I lose a little hair –
broccoli has no effect,
it’s thoroughly unfair.

12. Ogden Nash
1902-1971:
In the publishing field, Nash said that it
was the poor quality of the
manuscripts he read that led him to try
to write. He attempted to produce
serious verse in the style of the
eighteenth-century Romantic poets
but soon gave it up. He preferred to
scribble comic verse on pages that he
crumpled and tossed across the office
to the desks of coworkers.
Nash was one of the most
commercially successful English-
language poets of the twentieth
century.

13. The Romantic Age
This one is entering her teens,
Ripe for sentimental scenes,
Has picked a gangling unripe male,
Sees herself in bridal veil,
Presses lips and tosses head,
Declares she’s not too young to wed.
Informs you pertly you forget
Romeo and Juliet.
Do not argue, do not shout;
Remind her how that one turned out.

14. A Watched Example Never Boils
The weather is so very mild
That some would call it warm.
Good gracious, aren’t we lucky, child?
Here comes a thunderstorm.
The sky is now indelible ink,
The branches reft asunder;
But you and I, we do not shrink;
We love the lovely thunder.
The garden is a raging sea,
The hurricane is snarling;
Oh happy you and happy me!
Isn’t the lightening darling?
Fear not the thunder, little one.
It’s the weather, simply weather;
It’s friendly giants full of fun
Clapping hands together.

15. I hope of lightning our supply
Will never be exhausted;
You know it’s lanterns in the sky
For angels who are losted.
We love the kindly wind and hail,
The jolly thunderbolt,
We watch in glee the fairy trail
Of ampere, watt, and volt.
Oh, than to enjoy a storm like this
There’s nothing I would rather.
Don’t dive beneath the blankets, Miss!
Or else leave room for Father.

16. Tomorrow, Partly Cloudy
Rainy vacations
Try people’s patience.
To expect rain in the autumn
Experience has tautumn,
And rain in the spring and winter
Makes no stories for the printer,
But rain on summer colonies
breeds misdemeanors and felonies.
Summer cottages are meant just to sleep in,
Not to huddle all day in a heap in,
And whether at sea level or in higher places
There are not enough fireplaces,
And the bookcase stares at you starkly
And seems to be full of nothing but Volume I of the like of Rutherford B. Hayes,
and The Rosary by Florence M. Barclay,
And everybody wishes they had brought woolens and tweeds instead of linens and foulards,
And if you succeed in lining up four for bridge the only deck turns out to have only fifty-one cards,
And tennis rackets grow frazzled and golf sticks rusty and bathing suits moldy,
And parents grow scoldly,
And on all sides you hear nothing but raindrops going sputter-sput, sputter-sput,
And bureau drawers won’t open and bathroom doors won’t shut,

17. And all attempts at amusement fail,
Even reading the previous tenant’s jettisoned mail,
Although naturally it would never have been jettisoned
If it hadn’t been reticent.
But you could stand everything if it wasn’t for one malignant committee,
Which is the one that turns the sun on again just as you are leaving for the city.
Yes indeed, rainy vacations
Certainly try people’s patience.

18. The Hunter
The hunter crouches in his blind
‘Neath camouflage of every kind,
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his decoys.
This grown-up man, with pluck and luck,
Is hoping to outwit a duck.

19. Celery
Celery, raw,
Develops the jaw,
But celery, stewed,
Is more easily chewed.

20. The Duck
Behold the duck.
It does not cluck.
A cluck it lacks.
It quacks.
It is specially fond
Of a puddle or pond.
When it dines or sups,
It bottoms ups.

21. Chuck
I’m Chuck, the chore evader
and adept procrastinator.
I’ve got a lot of strategies –
I’ll demonstrate them later.

22. Shel Silverstein
1932-1999:
Silverstein began
writing when he was
twelve years old. He
would have preferred to
be playing ball with
children his age, but he
had no athletic ability.
Also, girls showed no
interest in him, so he
began to write.

23. Rockabye
Rockabye baby, in the treetop.
Don’t you know a treetop
Is no safe place to rock?
And who put you up there,
And your cradle too?
Baby, I think someone down here’s
Got it in for you.

24. Shoe Talk
There’s no one to talk with –
I’ll talk with my shoe.
He does have a tongue
And an inner soul, too.
He’s awfully well polished,
So straightlaced and neat
(But he talks about nothing
But feet – feet – feet).

25. How Many, How Much
How many slams in an old screen door?
Depends how loud you shut it.
How many slices in a bread?
Depends how thin you cut it.
How much good inside a day?
Depends how good you live ‘em.
How much love inside a friend?
Depends how much you give ‘em.

26. Homework Machine
The Homework Machine, oh the Homework Machine,
Most perfect contraption that’s ever been seen.
Just put in your homework, then drop in a dime,
Snap on the switch, and in ten seconds’ time,
Your homework comes out, quick and clean as can be.
Here it is – “nine plus four?” and the answer is “three”.
Three?
Oh me . . .
I guess it’s not as perfect
As I thought it would be.

27. Hinges
If we had hinges on our heads
There wouldn’t be no sin,
‘Cause we could take the bad stuff out
And leave the good stuff in.

28. Headphone Harold
Headphone Harold wore his headphones
Through the night and through the day.
He said, “I’d rather hear my music
than the dumb things people say.”
In the city’s honkin’ traffic,
He heard trumpets ‘stead of trucks.
Down the quiet country back roads
He heard drums instead of ducks.
Through the patterin’ springtime showers
He heard guitars instead of rain.
Down the track at the railroad crossin’
He heard the trombones – not the train.

29. Theodore Geisel
1904-1991:
Geisel, better known
under his pseudonym
"Dr. Seuss," was
"probably the best-loved
and certainly the best-
selling children's book
writer of all time," wrote
Robert Wilson of the New
York Times Book Review.
He entertained several
generations of young
readers with his zany
nonsense books.

30. Vrooms
On a world near the sun live two brothers called VROOMS
Who, strangely enough, are built sort of like brooms
And they’re stuck all alone up there high in the blue
And so, to kill time, just for something to do
Each one of these fellows takes turns with the other
In sweeping the dust off his world with his brother.

31. Too Many Daves
Did I ever tell you that Mrs. McCave
Had twenty-three sons and she named them all Dave?
Well, she did. And that wasn’t a smart thing to do.
You see, when she wants one and calls out, “Yoo-Hoo!
Come into the house, Dave!” she doesn’t get one.
All twenty-three Daves of hers come on the run!
This makes things quite difficult at the McCaves’
As you can imagine, with so many Daves.
And often she wishes that, when they were born,
She had named one of them Bodkin Van Horn
And one of them Hoos-Foos. And one of them Snimm.
And one of them Hot-Shot. And one Sunny Jim.
And one of them Shadrack. And one of them Blinkey.

32. And one of them Stuffy. And one of them Stinkey.
Another one Putt-Putt. Another one Moon Face.
Another one Marvin O’Gravel Balloon Face.
And one of them Ziggy. And one Soggy Muff.
One Buffalo Bill. And one Biffalo Buff.
And one of them Sneepy. And one Weepy Weed.
And one Paris Garters. And one Harris Tweed.
And one of them Sir Michael Carmichael Zutt
And one of them Oliver Boliver Butt
And one of them Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate . . .
But she didn’t do it. And now it’s too late.

33. If We Didn’t Have Birthdays
If we didn’t have birthdays, you wouldn’t be you.
If you’d never been born, well then what would you do?
If you’d never been born, well then what would you be?
You might be a fish! Or a toad in a tree!
You might be a doorknob! Or three baked potatoes!
You might be a bag full of hard green tomatoes.
Or worse than all that . . .Why, you might be a WASN’T!
A Wasn’t has no fun at all. No, he doesn’t.
A Wasn’t just isn’t. He just isn’t present.
But you . . . You ARE YOU! And, now isn’t that pleasant!

34. Themes of These Whimsical Poets:
• Don’t Take Life Too Seriously
• Appreciate Life and People
• Find Delight in Ordinary Things
• Create Puns and Fun with Words