When we were young
And could pick up a book,
A man with a gift
Made us all take a look
At a cat with a mission,
A feline with style,
Dressed up in a hat
With a hint of beguile.
The cat made us smile,
The Grinch brought a tear.
While the Whos down in Whoville
Inspired a cheer.
Those red fish and blue fish
Or green eggs and ham
The Star Bellied Sneetches
And that Sam-I-Am
The poor little boy
Wearing five hundred hats
Got caught in the oobleck
That fell and went splat.
His stories had morals,
Were strong with conviction,
Even though written
As young readers’ fiction.
A clear point of view,
The compassion he saw,
Like”…a person’s a person,
No matter how small.”
The elephant Horton
Who said what he meant,
That he could be faithful,
One hundred percent.
And think of the Lorax,
The one who said, “Please,
Oh, Please stop destroying
Tha Truffula Trees!”
His creatures were special,
Both comic and tragic,
Some small and some large,
With an aura of magic.
Think of the characters,
Ageless and timeless,
And how he could make
Something rhyme that seemed rhymeless!
The point of my story,
I’m sure you have reckoned,
Someone quite special
Was born on March second.
Creator of Yertle,
And Thidwick the Moose,
A talent unequaled:
The dear Dr. Seuss.
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