"Ooh, I'm going to do purple!" said Rondi. Rondi loved anything purple.

"You can't do purple," said Allison. "I'm doing it."

"So?" said Rondi. "Mrs. Jewls didn't say two people couldn't do the same color."

"But purple is my favorite color in the world," said Allison.

Rondi and Allison were best friends, but Allison always got her way.

Rondi switched to blue.

Joe raised his hand. "I don't know what rhymes with red," he said.

Mrs. Jewls gave him a few suggestions. "Bed, led, wed. Think of words that end in 'e-d.' "

"Oh, I get it!" said Joe. He set to work.

Rondi tried to think of words that rhymed with blue. She raised her hand. "Mrs. Jewls!" she said. "I chose blue. Can I rhyme that with zoo?"

"Yes, that would be a good rhyme," agreed Mrs. Jewls.

"How about glue?" asked Rondi.

"Yes, that rhymes too," said Mrs. Jewls.

"Oh, I know!" said Rondi. "How about stew?"

"Just pick one and get started," said Mrs. Jewls.

Rondi smiled. "This is fun," she told Allison. "There are lots of words that rhyme with blue."

Allison grunted.

Nothing rhymed with purple. In her mind, Allison had gone through every letter of the alphabet: aurple, burple, curple, durple... all the way to zurple.

But after making a big stink over it with Rondi, she couldn't switch colors now.

Rondi was just about to start her poem when she got an even better idea: Love That's True. "Poets are always writing about Love That's True, aren't they, Mrs. Jewls?"

"Sometimes," said Mrs. Jewls.

Rondi smiled. Except she really didn't know much about true love.

"Morning dew!" she said. "Poets write about morning dew too, don't they, Mrs. Jewls?"

"I believe so," said Mrs. Jewls.

Dana walked to Mrs. Jewls's desk. "I can't think of anything that rhymes with pink," she complained.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," said Mrs. Jewls. She winked at her.

"I can't think," said Dana. "My mind's on the blink. I'm no good at poetry. I stink!"

"Just keep trying," said Mrs. Jewls.

Dana returned to her seat. She started to put her name on her paper, but her pen wouldn't write. "Great!" she complained. "Now my pen's out of ink!"

"Hey, Dana," whispered John. "Do you want to borrow my pen?"

"Sure," said Dana.

"Too bad, I'm using it," said John. Then he and Joe cracked up.

Meanwhile, Allison was going through the alphabet for the tenth time. . . . Murple, nurple, ourple, qurple, . . . she thought.

"My left shoe!" exclaimed Rondi.

"You better choose something, Rondi, and get started," advised Mrs. Jewls.

"I got it!" said Rondi. "A Bird That Flew!"

At the end of the day, the children turned in their poems.

Yellow

by Kathy

I don't feel too well, oh I don't know who to tell, oh I'm sick and I smell, oh My barf is yellow

Green

by Stephen

The swimming pool has lots of chlorine. It turned my hair green.

Brown

by Joy

At the circus I saw a clown.

On his face was a great big frown.

His sad eyes were big and brown.

Red

by Joe

The fire truck is red!

It hurried!

The siren wailed!

The house burned!

The firemen saved

The baby who screamed.

Pink

by Dana

My favorite color is pink. John is a ratfink!
16
Purple

by Allison

The baby won't stop crying.

His face is turning purple.

Will anything make him feel better?

I bet a burp'll.

Blue

by Rondi

That was as far as she got.
17
Actually his name was Doctor Pickell, with the accent on the second syllable. But that wasn't why everyone called him Dr. Pickle.

Dr. Pickle was a psychiatrist. He had thick eyebrows and wore tiny glasses. He had a small beard on the tip of his pointed chin.

A psychiatrist is a doctor who doesn't cure people with sick bodies. He cures people with sick minds.

Although Dr. Pickle had a pretty sick mind himself.