It’s the weekend! Celebrate with Pizza, Pancakes and Poetry by Prelutsky!

Pizza, pancakes, Prelutsky…and cupcakes and bluegrass. Can you say YUM?! It’s definitely an equation for an enjoyable weekend.

We are having a pizza party with Grandma tonight and tomorrow morning my husband, Rich, will make pancakes as he always does on the weekend. And we will probably read some Jack Prelutsky since he is my daughter, Amelia’s favorite right now.

Because of all these things, I decided I needed to share the two poems below. Read them to your kids while you’re having pancakes and pizza. Or read them to your baby while you bounce her on your knee.

What are you up to this weekend? I’ll bet it is good subject matter for a poem!

Happy Friday!

A Pizza the Size of the Sun

I’m making a pizza the size of the sun,
a pizza that’s sure to weigh more than a ton,
a pizza too massive to pick up and toss,
a pizza resplendent with oceans of sauce.

I’m topping my pizza with mountains of cheese,
with acres of peppers, pimentos, and peas,
with mushrooms, tomatoes, and sausage galore,
with every last olive they had at the store.

My pizza is sure to be one of a kind,
my pizza will leave other pizzas behind,
my pizza will be a delectable treat
that all who love pizza are welcome to eat.

The oven is hot, I believe it will take
a year and a half for my pizza to bake.
I hardly can wait till my pizza is done,
my wonderful pizza the size of the sun.

The Pancake Collector

Come visit my pancake collection
It’s unique in the civilized world
I have pancakes in every description,
Pancakes flaky and fluffy and curled

I have pancakes of various sizes
Pancakes regular, heavy and light
Underdone pancakes and overdone pancakes
And pancakes so perfectly right

I have pancakes locked up in the closets
have pancakes on hangers and hooks
There are bags in boxes and bureaus
And pressed in the pages of books

There are pretty ones sewn to the cushions
And tastefully pinned to the drapes.
The ceilings are coated with pancakes
And pressed in the pages with crepes.

I have pancakes in most of my pockets
And concealed in the lining of suites
There are tiny ones stuffed in my mittens
And large one packed in my boots

I have extra of most of my pancakes,
I maintain them in rows on these shelves
And if you say nice things about them
You may take a few home for yourself

I see that you’ve got to be going
Won’t you let yourselves out by the door?
It is time that I pour out he batter
And bake up a few hundred more.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Jingle
    Aug 13, 2010 @ 14:41:33

    have fun with your loving family,
    your poem is yummy, witty, and funny…

    cheers!

    please check out My Poets Rally information,
    Welcome to participate, it runs through 18th…
    BEST!

    Reply

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