The Yipiyuk by, Shel Silverstein
In the swamplands long ago, Where the weeds and mudglumps grow,
A Yipiyuk bit on my toe…
Exactly why I do not know.
I kicked and cried And hollered “Oh”—
The Yipiyuk would not let go.
I whispered to him soft and low—
The Yipiyuk would not let go.
I shouted “Stop,” “Desist” and “Whoa”—
The Yipiyuk would not let go.
Yes, it was sixteen years ago,
The Yipiyuk still won’t let go.
The snow may fall,
The winds may blow—
The Yipiyuk will not let go.
The snow may melt,
The grass may grow—
The Yipiyuk will not let go.
I drag him ‘round each place I go.
This Yipiyuk that won’t let go.
And now my child at last you know
Exactly why I walk so slow.
Well Alison really liked this poem and has made herself a Yipiyuk bag. Just a drawstring bag full of modeling clay and doo dads (Yay! Finally a use for all those little things that she can't seem to part with). She makes these cute little creatures which she calls Yipiyuks out of the wonderful doo dads and clay that come from this bag.
(She let Jack make this next one, he called it "Uggy Ippy Uck")
2 comments:
What a cute, creative girl you've got! I'm off to make some of my own yipiyuks....
How creative!
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