From Sarah, With Joy

Writer of all things kid lit.

Here there be kid poems.

Monday, June 18, 2018

The Dragon Inside

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The Dragon Inside

The dragon in my closet
left a black mark on my shoe.
She tore my jeans—and flip-flops
are her favorite thing to chew!
The dragon in the kitchen
always burns my whole wheat toast.
He scorched the trash compactor
but he makes a good pot roast.
The dragon in the parking lot
roars at all the buses
while they unload all the kiddies,
and he blazes, growls and cusses.
The dragon playing dodgeball
blows her short fuse every time.
One dragon burned my homework,
and the teacher thought that I’m
the one who's doing all the damage.
The secret though, you see,
is these dragons all got nothing
on the dragon inside me.


-Sarah Allen

Monday, June 4, 2018

REPRESENTED BY BRIANNE JOHNSON AT WRITERS HOUSE!!!!



Guys.

Guys.

I have been waiting years to make this announcement.

I sent my first agent query in 2012. It was for my first book which was rejected very justly for a multitude of reasons mostly being that it sucked. I still have a special place in my heart for that book.

Four books and hundreds of rejections later, I can finally announce.

I AM OFFICIALLY REPRESENTED BY BRIANNE JOHNSON AT WRITERS HOUSE!!!

It's been a few weeks now, and we've actually been on sub to editors for a month. I can't even believe I get to say that.

I'll do a longer, more in depth post about how it all went down at another time, I think. For now, its just celebration time!!

If you have agent questions or just need query trench commiseration feel free to comment and I'll be there for you!

Sarah

Monday, March 26, 2018

Star-Nosed Mole

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Star-Nosed Mole


Pig-snouted, fleshy-finger-feeler rimmed
star nose sniffer, using star-touch to push, tell, taste.
Do stars shine underground
if nobody can see?
Dig, dig, dig through the earth to a star
nosed center. Who knows of what earth-stars
smell, touch, taste?
She knows, the mole. She who has
sniffed the star-centered earth.
Star-dusted dust, dirt, grime.
Do you dare hold close the starry-faced
blind-eyed ground digger?
Do you dare draw near?
Come carefully, for the star-nosed
knows what stars dwell
under the surface of you.


Monday, March 19, 2018

Blurgsday

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Blurgsday

Sunday’s when we go to church
and say our prayers and scripture search.
Monday we go back to school
to make our brain a power tool.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday: work
like bankers, teachers, moms and clerks.
Friday night is party time
unless you’d rather have downtime
snug with a book, then Saturday
we whip through chores so we can play.
Then comes the best day of them all!
Blurgsday, when ideas call!
On Blurgsday ride a purple horse
or take a Bigfoot finding course.
On Blurgsday you can paint with mud
or dance upon a flower bud,
sing too loud or scrape your knees.
You get to be whate'er you please.
Wait, hold on, what’s that you say?
You say there’s no such Blurgsday day?
Can I still wear my Blurgsday best
and welcome some dear Blurgsday guest?
Would you eat some Blurgsday cake
to celebrate that we’re awake?
If you check your calendar
you’ll see it’s best if you plan for
a Blurgsday minute, so to speak,
every single day next week.



-Sarah Allen

Monday, March 12, 2018

The Neckless Giraffe



The Neckless Giraffe


All giraffe clans have a neckless giraffe
hanging somewhere on their family tree.
Unfortunately in this giraffe family
the neckless giraffe here is me.
I can’t reach the treetops,
the juiciest leaves,
so I have to eat grass with the zebras.
The baboons won’t talk
to me. Meerkat pups mock
even more than the laughing hyenas.
How would you feel if
you had to do full-on splits
just bending down for a drink?
Or not being able to see
hiding lions?
It’s scarier than you might think.
My great, great, great grandma,
the one other member of my fam
without a long neck,
was so sick of jerk fuss
she joined a big circus.
She’s a clown, but get’s clownish respect.


But what’s this? Oh see here,
the Old Gnu Express delivered
some mail to my bunk.
A penpal for me?
Could it possibly be?
Signed, an Elephant without a trunk!


-Sarah Allen

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