Watch this space for more children's poetry from Paul
and the other members of
The Crumpetty Tree Irregulars

Oil.
Slippy, soppy oil.
Sloppy oil.
Icky, awful oil.
Did you ever put your hands in
smelly oil?
You can tell it’s not the kind of toy that you can play with when you’re little.
Dirty oil.

Where did it come from
all this oil
that Mommy takes out of her car
while Daddy holds me.
Black, black oil
that Mommy lets me put my finger in.
It’s oily oil.
Then she wipes it off my hand.
It’s sticky oil.
We make my daddy laugh. He says
“It’s skin deep oil.”
Mommy puts new oil in the car.
It’s dark brown oil
my Daddy calls “Black Gold.”
That dirty oil.

-- Paul