Skippery Boo

The Skippery Boo is a short funny scary poem for kids about a hunter in the woods who comes across a strange and terrifying creature. It was written by Earl L. Newton.

Skippery Boo

I went to bring, from the rippling spring,
One morning dry and damp,
A brimming pail of Adam’s ale
For use about the camp;

My happy frame did well proclaim
A cheerful bent of mind,
And I hummed a song, as I loped along,
Of the most enchanting kind.

But my heart stood still, as I turned the hill,
And the spring came to my view,
For drinking there of the potion rare,
Was the terrible Skippery Boo.

He drank his fill from the flowing rill,
And shook his mighty mane,
Then with his jaws and his hairy paws,
He ripped a tree in twain.

With fear and dread to camp I sped,
For my trusty .30 bore,
Then turned about with daring shout,
And sought the spring once more;

But though my feet with speed were fleet,
As over the glade I flew,
No sign was there, on earth, in air,
Of the slippery Skippery Boo.

To left and right, I strained my sight,
To find where he had gone,
Among the pines I sought for signs,
But found not a single one.

To East and West I turned my quest,
But all to no avail,
No trace I found on gorse or ground,
Of his departing trail.

And then aloft my gaze I doffed,
And there in the hazy blue,
On the topmost spine of the tallest pine,
Hung the fabulous Skippery Boo.

Oh, the Skippery Boo is a fanciful zoo:
A mermaid and a bat,
A grizzly hare and a webfoot bear,
A goof and a bumble-cat.

He can fell an oak with a single stroke,
Or shatter a mountain side,
Then lightly rise to the azure skies,
And light as a zephyr ride.

My heart he fills with terror’s chills,
Oh, don’t know what I’d do,
If some dark night, in broad daylight,
I should meet a Skippery Boo.

A poison flows from his warty toes,
And the grass where he shall tread,
Shall wilt and fade at evening’s shade,
And tomorrow shall be dead.

And who shall walk where he shall stalk,
Over valley, hill or plain,
Shall die, it is said, of illness dread,
And a terrible dark-green pain.

So as you wade this vale of shade,
And jog life’s journey through,
At day, at night, be it dark or light,
Watch out for the Skippery Boo.

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