# data[].attributes.body
by Carol Varsalona

I'm sliding into this Ditty Challenge at the last minute. My Buncee poetry offering can be seen at my blog and at my Buncee site:

# data[].attributes.body
Because...

They had no names
(like Fred and Sam)
to reference each other…
Their poems would suffer terribly--
in syllables they’d smother.
And rhyme would be
a monstrous wreck…
with grunts and roars un-rhymely.
Great beasts who stomp
so clumsily?
They can’t do meter timely.

But…
I could be wrong.

We might unearth one day a verse
by Dickinsonsaurus docile,
or dig up a WaltWhitmanodus
stanza on a fossil.
A Robertondon may have penned
a verse about a Frost
that that led that great ice age when
their ancient world was lost.
And if a Wordsworthdactyl screeched
in prose up in the sky,
I’m sure that someone wrote it down.

If not...
I wonder why?

© Damon Dean, 2018

# data[].attributes.body
I would not agree, if I were to see
A large enormous bear doing a foxtrot
It would be very strange for this to happen
Dancing in a ball room with his red bowtie
Oh dear oh dear I could hear him cry
When all the judge could do was sigh
That's it I quit he told his dance partner
I tried my best listen to the laughter
But this I will say to all you out there
Please don't laugh at my friend the bear,
I agree its unusual but please Be kind
And give him a chance to finish his Dance

by Melanie Jayne Eaton.

# data[].attributes.body
When dinosaur swore that she'd fly in the sky,
flinging new wings, flapping so high,
her landlubbing pals chuckled, guffawed,
If reptiles can fly, why not cephalopods?

Some creatures were destined for sky, some for sea,
And dinos belong on a bird’s family tree.
Dinos grew feathers, while octopi hid,
they joyfully soared (but not so, the squid.)

© Buffy Silverman

# data[].attributes.body
For use in gardens, near and far,
it may seem a bit bizarre
but dinosaurs are known to sell
their urine and some do quite well.
Apparently, this oddity,
to some is a commodity.
It keeps the mice and deer at bay
and ‘possums even stay away.
Available at roadside stops
or carnivals and garden shops.
I find this a bit surprising,
dinosaurs are enterprising
but some big-shot entrepreneur
just can’t peddle their manure?

© 2018 by Ken Slesarik. All Rights Reserved

# data[].attributes.body
tracks of stone:

the dinosaurs' mother
was not one to scold

so, her children
walked through all
the mud puddles

© Diane Mayr

# data[].attributes.body
Dinosaurs with telescopes

explore the sky at night –

sliver of moon and shimmering stars.

They marvel at the sight.

But rocks in space called asteroids

that flare when they ignite

in the atmosphere of planet Earth

give dinosaurs a fright.

© 2018 Juanita Havill

# data[].attributes.body
by Lynzee, 3rd grade, Mrs. Simon's class

I Can't Imagine
A T-Rex secretary,
typing..
her misspelled resignation letter

# data[].attributes.body
by Austin F., 3rd grade, Mrs. Simon's class

A T-Rex in a tank,
What a strange sight to see.
Can he fit inside?
Or would he crush it with his weight?
Would he know how to use it?
No one knows
of a T-Rex in a tank.

# data[].attributes.body
Never ask a dinosaur

to help you with your packing.

He lacks such necessary skills

as rolling, folding, stacking.

Your pants will be all wrinkled.

Your shirts will be a mess.

So if a dino offers help

don’t ever answer “yes”!

© 2018 Cynthia Cotten.  All rights reserved.

# data[].attributes.headline
What the Dino saw (when he visited the library)

# data[].attributes.subject
What the Dino saw (when he visited the library)

# data[].attributes.body
Oh no! I can't believe it.

I'm not in any books.

It's such a shame because I have

such stunning dino looks.

I know I'm on the small side -

the time warp is to blame -

I shrank across the centuries

I passed through as I came

to see the distant future-

to see how Earth would change.

But what a shock this gives me-

something's really strange

for all my friends are listed here

but there's no sign of me.

I'm in a state of crisis

with no identity.

It's bad enough to realise

the dinos all died out.

But who am I? What does it mean?

I think, yet I'm in doubt.

My world has crumbled round me.

I'll make this quite succinct-

Instead of never having been,

I'd rather be extinct.

by Kate O'Neil

# data[].attributes.body
Two a.m. in early summer, balmly and serene

An unfamiliar nighttime sound disturbs my peaceful dream

At first it’s soft ujjayi breath and then an ocean tide

Which quickly turns to rumbling like a Harley Dyna Glide

The rhythmic noise increases, louder than a roaring train

And at its max the volume is a cat three hurricane

I bolt from bed, peek through the shutters, shaken to the core

While sleeping soundly on the lawn’s a snoring dinosaur!

© 2018 Mindy Gars Dolandis

# data[].attributes.body
by David McMullin

If dinosaurs were here today,

they'd be a bit confused

about the flattened stones we hold,

and how these things are used.

They'd see us poking at their fronts

until they buzz and chime,

and wonder why our eyes are glued

upon them all the time.

Now, dinosaurs are curious,

they'd like to try, perhaps,

to understand the differences

in memes, and texts, and apps.

If dinosaurs were here today,

they'd work hard to evolve

but cell phones are a puzzle

mammoth fingers just can't solve.

# data[].attributes.body
Am I a bird?

Am I a plane?

No.

I'm Qantassaurus!

Qantassaurus intrepidus

I’m a recent Aussie blow-in

from the dig down-under at Dinosaur Cove.

The team turned up a few old bones

and called the place a treasure trove.

The only bit they found of me

was part of my jawbone – but truth to tell,

ancient jawbones still have the power

to share their story. Every cell

holds information from the past;

archaeologists have proved

their theories of how we lived,

what we ate and how we moved.

They know I was small, that I ran on two legs.

(When I was chased I could run really fast)

They say that my blood was probably warm

and I didn’t eat meat -  just ferns and grass.

Aren’t you amazed that fragments can show

so much about the days of our lives,

Leaellynasaura, Timimus and me?

And so our history still survives

from many millions of years ago -

the things we got up to back in the day

when we downunder dinosaurs

hung out around Wonthaggi way -

a wild place then, and bitterly cold -

to stay alive we had to roam,

but here we lived, so claim the right

to still call Australia ‘home’.  *

by Kate O'Neil

*The Qantas theme song. Qantas supplied funding for this dig, which also found bones of the other dinosaurs named here.

# data[].attributes.body
This dinosaur dad, he really was bad

at certain things others achieved.

Feeling quite daunted

from an action he wanted;

riding bicycles left him aggrieved.

His arms were too short, legs overlong,

no scrunching his body made sense.

The kids were frustrated

said “Dad, we’re outdated”

We’re all being labeled “past tense”.

A lightbulb then lit; Dad knows of a fit

for bodies that feel too passé,

velocipedes devised

are what he advised.

They cheered Dad when riding away.

Linda Baie © All Rights Reserved

# data[].attributes.body
Gentleman T-Rex Postcard

# data[].attributes.body
There lived in time-long-ago       called Jurassic

A practitioner of the Yoga-saur Classic.

Bony-plated his back

Each pose held―out of whack

STICK TO IT―his mantra― through thin and through thick.

© 2018 Cory Corrado

# data[].attributes.body
Can a dino do a plié,
a grande jeté,
Or prance?
Can it jitterbug or monkey?
Can it do
a tappy dance?
Can this prehistoric being
Keep timing for
A waltz or
Keep up with its partner in
A Caribbean
Salsa?
No this lizard’s
Not a wizard
When it comes to
Do-si-do,
And it’s bound to
Step and stumble
Tromping down on your
Big toe!
So no dancing for you
T-Rex or Bronto
Dinosaur:
Leave your dancing shoes
At home,
Unless you’re a Pterosaur -
For then you would be lighter,
So much lighter on your feet
As you glide around the dance floor
Wings in time with
Music’s beat.
But in general
Don’t go dancing with
A dinosaur at all,
For they mostly -
Hardly ever -
Are belle or beau of
Any ball.

By Donna JT Smith, ©2018

# data[].attributes.body
Young Colette could pirouette,

turn out, and then jeté.

Statuesque at arabesque,

she’d bend to a plié

and twirl adagio – then allegro –

landing a croisé!

I’d never seen a T-Rex

so proficient at ballet.

– © 2018 Matt Forrest Esenwine, all rights reserved

# data[].attributes.body
One day our team was one man short -
The game would not be fair;
The other team had more than us -
We needed one more player.

We fretted and bemoaned the fact,
Searched every which and where,
And finally found Sir Dino Mite -
We’d win this fair and square!

With clicking claws and sharpened teeth
He gave that team a scare!
Unfortunately, he scared us too
With his piercing, no-good glare.

He popped the ball and ate it up -
We didn’t have a prayer!
No soccer ball to score a goal -
There wasn’t any spare.

We tried to run away and hide,
But he just didn’t care.
He tossed the ref into the net
And sat in coach’s chair.

He blew the whistle fierce and loud,
Oh, he was on a tear,
Then suddenly he stopped, got up -
An egg was laid right there!

This wasn’t good Sir Dino Mite!
It was his dear Ma Chere,
And once her egg was safely laid
She grabbed said egg and chair.

She pranced them off the soccer field
With prehistoric flair.
We stopped the game and all went home -
Ma Dino to her lair.

By Donna JT Smith, ©2018

# data[].attributes.body
The strangest visitors to my shack,
came with the weather all out of whack.
Pink and orange snow, cast an eerie glow.
Ducking, I readied for an attack.

It became clear, they'd just come to surf,
although clumsy away from the turf.
Their sharp monstrous claws and big toothy jaws,
made me feel like a big floating Smurf.

Few might suspect a dino' d hang ten,
yet T-Rex proved a master. But then,
his tiny forearms might well be the charms,
helping him reach his shocking wave Zen.

© 2018 Maria Marshall

# data[].attributes.body
"Hang ten!"
echoed the cry,
as a huge form sped by.
Dwarfing the board, towered a toothy -
T-Rex.

© 2018 Maria Marshall

# data[].attributes.body
I like to go on play dates
at the dino swimming pool.
We dive, and dunk, and frolic...
tons of fun while keeping cool.

The lifeguards there are friendly;
they watch over us with pride.
It's the world's best place around...
for a super-sized WET SLIDE!

by Dianne Moritz

# data[].attributes.body
Beachside scene
by Wyncliffe

# data[].attributes.body
There were too many rules at our school,
so we broke them and pitched them away.
For a while it was all fun and games

until Jill broke her leg on the slide
because Jack jumped the line--so she fell--
and our teacher boohooed at her desk.

Then a ROAR and a STOMP and some CLOMPS,
through the halls came a clamor and shout:
So you think you can learn without rules!

Our new principal blazed through the doors
with his glasses and sharp tiny teeth--
soon this Troodon ruled at our school.

© Sherry Howard

# data[].attributes.body
My dinosaur was always meant,
To be a lover not a fighter.
Her arms were short and bent,
Her friend would often mock her.

She wanted to fight back,
Her arms would jab the air.
He laughed again, that rude Jack!
She pretended not to care.

She got really angry one day,
He made fun of her again.
Her tail tripped Jack, Oh yay!
And he limped off with a sprain.

By Angelique Pacheco

# data[].attributes.body
Do you know anything

a dinosaur can’t do?

I can’t think of a thing–

I hope I don’t turn blue…

They could breathe

like you and me,

some lived amongst the Norfolk Island pine tree.

They could eat

some chomped on meat,

but an herbivore might feast on a cycad treat.

They could run

in rain or sun,

but some sure didn’t run to have fun.

Dinosaurs are pretty cool,

to read about in a book,

or play with beside a brook.

But could THEY read?

Or could THEY draw?

Did THEY have a grandpaw?

Did THEY have to brush their teeth?

Did THEY have to go to school?

Did THEY know the golden rule?

Guess I know a bunch that dinosaurs can’t do,

Guess I won’t have to go and turn blue.

Dinosaurs became extinct, let’s save our earth,

me and you, and you, and you, and you tooooooooooooo!

©2018 Michelle Kogan

# data[].attributes.body
Don’t ask a dinosaur to

do your homework

T-Rex can’t hold a pencil

or read very much

Brontosaurus may forget to

do your homework

While devouring extra lunch

Pterodactyls get distracted

prone to flying high and away

Do your homework

so it’s done right by you– today!

© Linda Mitchell

# data[].attributes.body
Tee doddle dee
One two three
A B C
All the way to
X Y Z
It is true
My T-rex
Likes to read
Roaring out stories
As if he were
A brassy tuba
One two three
A B C
All the way to
X Y Z
Tee doddle dee
Dud dee tee

by Jessica Bigi

# data[].attributes.body
Dinosaur Fair
by Jason Carroll

# data[].attributes.body
The L. B. Hopkinsaurus
is a rare and noble breed—
a prince among the wordivores,
he always takes the lead.

At feasting "dino"ccasions
when poetry is served,
his taste for inky gobbling
is robust and unreserved.

He might appear well-mannered
but once he's on a roll,
he holds the Guinness record
for collections swallowed whole!

The L. B. Hopkinsaurus
wears a venerable crown.
Don't ask him to retire,
or even to slow down.

This Energizer Dino
with his charismatic roar
says when it comes to Poetry,
we all should eat much more!

© 2018 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes.

# data[].attributes.body
In late October gloaming light,

when ghosts and goblins in full sight

are met with smiles and sweets throughout the night,

a dino clad in armor bright

held shield and sword--a fearsome knight

who hoped to fuel his gnawing appetite--

was met with shrieks and screams and fright,

so clanking-clanging ran, his flight

was clumsy; as he fled, he sobbed, contrite:

“I'm not my cuz--no height! I'm slight!

No need to fight! The only bite

I hunted was no trick-just sweet delight.”

© April 2018 Rebekah Hoeft

# data[].attributes.body
by Lynzee, 3rd grade, Mrs. Simon's class

a T-Rex going to the gym,
lifting weights,
saying,
"I gotta get fit, lose the triceratops bacon I ate for breakfast!"
Straining to pick it up,
he puts it down and goes,
"CHOMP!"
He says,
"Oh, great, now I need replacements,
AND my wife is going to sign me up for anger management classes.

# data[].attributes.body
by Trace, 5th grade, Mrs. Simon's class

You can ask a T.Rex lots of questions.
Like why does it eat meat.
But never ask why their arms are so short.
If you do, when you're running, you'll feel the heat.

You can ask why they don't eat plants.
Never say they should go on a diet and eat like a triceratops.
If he answers, it will scare your socks off.
But that is your loss.

If you do ask one of these,
hide in a tree.
His stubby arms won't reach you.
( Don't tell them I said that.)

# data[].attributes.body
My small garden plot needed weeded.

Ugrunaaluk wanted the work.

My instructions were clearly not heeded-

He thought vegetables were a perk.

Cindy Breedlove

# data[].attributes.body
My dinosaur loves breakfast.

She eats it everyday.

Waffles are her favorite,

that she makes a special way.

The batter is her trademark

with bits of spinach green.

They rise up high and fluffy,

and proper for a queen.

Crispy nooks and crannies,

complete this tasty treat.

A wonder to behold,

She flips them with her feet!

by Kathleen Mazurowski

# data[].attributes.body
by Dawson, 4th grade, Mrs. Simon's class

A T-Rex, big and fierce,
hard to imagine one eating broccoli.
Well It's as true,
as celery.
Sharp teeth,
good for meat,
but a T-Rex eating a salad,
how that idea is going extinct.

# data[].attributes.body
T-Rex with Broccoli
by Dawson, 4th grade, Mrs. Simon's class

# data[].attributes.body
Background image: Rita Bellati