Watermelon Hi Poem by Ima Ryma

I'm old enough now to know, yup,
That summertime is fun for me,
Now two years old, almost grown up.
Mom cut it up and said it be
A watermelon fruit to eat,
And I was old enough to get
My very own piece, oh so sweet,
Making me all sticky and wet,
As I slurped down red juicy stuff,
That crunched as I bit into it.
As though great taste was not enough,
A bunch of seeds I get to spit.

So one of the bestest things, yes.
Mom expects me to make a mess.