Check out some of my published work!
Reprinted with new title, cover and a new chapter.
Writings for Children
December
by Lisa Scott
How strange it feels
To sit on the edge
And watch it flee
Right off the ledge
It seems just like
A song that’s ending
Sad and bleak
The notes descending
I know this brings
A brand new start
I just can’t give
Away my heart
To a new month
And a new year
Please let me make this
Very clear
This month that sits
right at the end
December is my
Closest friend
I hate to see
It fly away
Please December
Stay, stay, stay
The Skunk Choir
By Lisa Scott
It was late on a Friday night
When I beheld the craziest sight
Actually it wasn’t so much what I saw
But what I heard that put me in awe.
Out near my broken swing set
(I promise I will never forget)
I saw with both of my eyes
A crazy and smelly surprise
10 little skunks in a slightly curved line
Looking all dapper, handsome and fine
There was one extra skunk from the strange small clique
He was directing them all with a very long stick.
When all of a sudden, that one
Lifted his paw and begun
To direct his choir of skunks
As they sang the song “Uptown Funk”
I couldn’t believe my ears
Their singing brought me to tears.
It was harmonious and therapeutic
I had never heard such music
I wanted to stay and listen
But they had finished their mission
Of singing a song, oh so sweet
My life was now all complete
The group broke up and left
My heart felt quite bereft
Would people believe what I heard
Or would they find my story absurd?
I wrapped my blanket around me tight
And headed back to my room that night
I have seen a real skunk choir
What’s that now? I am not a liar!
The Creek
(Homophones)
by Lisa Scott
Today I walked down to the creek
The bridge was old. I heard a creek.
The rotting wood moved with a groan
I would have avoided if I had known
I looked for fish in the water blue
I snagged a dandelion and then I blew
The white fuzzy seeds spun and flew
Aloft on the wind as it blew through
The creek gurgled as birds sang a song
Suddenly, I felt in this place I belong
I rested my head on an old oak tree
The peace that I felt was plain to see
I knew deep within I was finally home
My feet and my mind no longer roam
Time marched on with a slow moving beat
This is where I am complete
It’s My Fault
by Lisa Scott
It’s my fault the faucet is broken
I turned the knob to find it was frozen
I broke the faucet.
It’s my fault we couldn’t launch the boat
I didn’t plug holes but thought it could float
I sank the boat.
It’s my fault the crawdad couldn’t crawl
The tank that I chose was much too small
I chose the wrong tank.
It’s my fault we have no straws
I used the last one to slurp up my slaw
I used the last straw
It’s my fault we lost the game
WAIT A MINUTE!
It isn’t my fault we lost the game
I caught the ball and claim the fame
Of being the one who stopped that team
From getting the last point it seems
Now that I think about it
I am not sure any of this was my fault!
KN and WR Decodable
Knox Wraps a Gift.pdf