-Dr. Seuss

Tuesday, October 27, 2015



Happy Fall!!
I hope you're all enjoying the rain :)

Thank You!
Rebekah Stokes
Author of BeKaH's Blog

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Flat Tire

Stuck on a mountain top. 
Fuming about tires that go POP.
You may not notice, but the view's great.
Might as well resign yourself to Fate. 
Seeing as the spare tire has faded into thin air. 
Hopefully this spot isn't to near any bear's lair. 
Find your inner woodsmen! Attack those trees! 
Or you could put your thumb up and ask a friendly driver 'Please?' 

Wait a minute.
Hold that thought. 
Wife just got you to read the  manual.  
Load of rubbish, the lot. 
But, as she's pointed out. 
This silly book doesn't just give you a throbbing head. 
There's the spare tire, hiding away! 
You tell your wife ' I was going to say.....' 
Two eyes roll in their sockets. 
But you hardly notice, your feet feel like rockets.
Ready to blow you up, up, up. 
A blissful feeling of floating on air.

Wait a minute. 
Hold that thought. 
Wife better be adept at changing tires
Because you're  most certainly not! 

This is based on a true occurrence that happened on the way down
from Thanksgiving weekend in Kelowna. Though my father can change tires, he has a 
strange allergic reaction to all written instructions of any sort :) 

Thank you! 
Rebekah Stokes 
Author of BeKaH's Blog

Thursday, May 28, 2015


Can't really describe it 
One minute, 
Next minute,
Flying on air

My chest is filled with a storm 
A lot more feeling than the norm
Trying to keep in form


It's really difficult,
To keep my pencil straight
I feel like a horse,
ready to surge out of the gate


My heart is beating at a very high rate 
Starting to think,
what's happening is, something like Fate.

I know it won't be easy
What I'm about to do

But still,
I'm feel EXCITED!
It's a FABULOUS feeling
and I hope YOU'll feel it one day too!

Thank you! 
Rebekah Stokes
Author of BeKaH's Blog

Monday, May 25, 2015


This is a concrete poem. A concrete poem is a poem in the shape of something. My concrete poem is in the shape of a, rather lumpy, puddle :)Since you  probably won't be able to read the actual writing in the photo (above), I have provided the actual poem by itself below.  I hope you  like it!

(I seem to write about rain and the consequences of rain, a LOT. Probably because I live in a rain forest in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia :0) 

Today the  clouds satisfy the little puddle, before, so very dry. With lots and lots of little drops from the top of the sky. They travel down in a straight descent and land safe and sound in the little puddle, on impact creating a little bubble. The wet pleases all ground around, and soon, the once dry stream runs. So all are happy, at least until the nasty sun comes and snatches all the little raindrops away. Leaving not a cloud in the sky, and all the little puddles dry and the ground's fertileness nowhere to be found, and there stream fast losing what it so quickly gained in the RAIN. But until then,
Can be happy.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015


Crickets making their melodies often switch to different keys.
Sometimes they sound like a potbellied man burping.
Sometimes like a blue bird calling.
Sometimes like a frog grumbling.
Sometimes like the sound of a running brook.
But most times the music they play is their own divine song that as people say, can only be described as...
The Cricket's Chirping.

Rebekah Stokes
Author of BeKaH's Blog