My Nose

Right smack dab in the middle of my face
a nose is growing in that place.
I think it looks real goofy there,
but I can’t move it any other somewhere.

Some are big, but mine is small,
and babies have a bump, that’s all.
It isn’t nice to lie, I know,
'cause my nose might grow like Pinnocchio’s.

With a cold it’s stuffy, just because,
near Sissy’s feet ... you wish it was.
Most times, my nose is a friend to me.
It warns, Mom’s cooking broccoli

or other stuff that I won’t eat,
like liver (that’s a yucky meat).
Sometimes it works the other way --
Mom made oatmeal cookies today,

and I also like to smell perfume.
The kind Mom wears stinks up a room.
We’d sure be missin', I suppose,
some real neat sniffin' without a nose.