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random poetry for children kids poems

Can't make up you mind whether you want a funny or sad - long or short - pink or violet poem? Here are a few from our vast poetry collection.



Collection : Poems for Children - 333

 

When God Created Kitty Cats by Author Unknown

When God created kitty cats,
He had no recipe;
He knew He wanted something sweet,
As sweet as sweet could be.

He started out with sugar,
Adding just a trace of spice;
Then stirred in drops of morning dew,
To keep them fresh and nice.

He thought cats should be soft to pet,
Thus He gave them coats of fur;
So they could show they were content,
He taught them how to purr.

He made for them long tails to wave,
While strutting down the walk;
Then trained them in meow-ology,
So they could do cat-talk.

He made them into acrobats,
And gave them grace and poise;
Their wide-eyed curiosity,
He took from little boys.

He put whiskers on their faces,
Gave them tiny ears for caps;
Then shaped their little bodies,
To snugly fit on laps.

He gave them eyes as big as saucers,
To look into man's soul;
Then set a tolerance for mankind,
As their purpose and their goal.

Benevolent ... and ... generous,
He made so many of them;
Then charged, with Fatherly Concern,
The human race to love them.

When one jumped up upon His lap,
God gently stroked its head;
The cat gave Him a kitty kiss,
'What wondrous love,' God said.

God smiled at His accomplishment,
So pleased with His creation;
And said, with pride, as He sat back,
'At last. . .I've reached purr-fection!'



= = = = = = = = = =



Lend Me a Kitten by Author Unknown

I will lend to you for awhile a kitten, God said.
For you to love while he lives, and mourn when he's dead.
Maybe for twelve or fourteen years, or maybe two or three.
But will you, 'till I call him back, take care of him for me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you and, should his stay be brief
You'll always have his memories as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught below I want this kitten to learn.

I've looked the whole world over in search of teachers true.
And from the folk that crowds life's land I have chosen you.
Now will you give him all your love, nor think the labor vain?
Nor hate me when I come to take my kitten home again?

I fancied that I heard them say 'Dear Lord Thy Will Be Done'
For all the joys this kitten brings the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness, we'll love him while we may.
And for the happiness we've known, forever grateful stay.

But should you call him back much sooner than we planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, and try to understand.
If, by our love we've managed your wishes to achieve,
Then in memory of him whom we loved, please help us while we grieve.
When our cherished kitten departs this world of strife,
Please send yet another needing soul for us to love all his life.



= = = = = = = = = =



There was a little girl by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.


= = = = = = = = = =



The Christening by A. A. Milne

What shall I call
My dear little dormouse?
His eyes are small,
But his tail is e-nor-mouse.

I sometimes call him Terrible John,
'Cos his tail goes on -
And on -
And on.
And I sometimes call him Terrible Jack,
'Cos his tail goes on to the end of his back.
And I sometimes call him Terrible James,
'Cos he says he likes me calling him names…
But I think I shall call him Jim,
'Cos I am fond of him.


= = = = = = = = = =



To A Mouse by Robert Burns

Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim'rous beastie,
O, what panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!







I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request:
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!





Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!





Thou saw the fields laid bare an' wast,
An' weary Winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.



That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald.
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!





But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!



Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!




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