classic poetry for children kids poems Edward Lear poems for kids children's poetry
friendship poetry for children kids poems funny poetry for children kids poems J Patrick Lewis Lewis Carrol poetry for kids limericks poetry for children kids poems nonsense poetry for children kids poems
nursery rhymes for children random poetry for children kids poems sad poems for children Scottish poetry for children kids poems Shel Silverstein poems for children
short poems for children kids poetry spike milligan poems for children stuart macfarlane Scottish poems T S Eliot Poems for children Tongue Twisters for kids valentine love poems for children kids poetry

Home

A. A. Milne Poems

Animal Poems

Birthday Poems

Christmas Poems

Classical Poems

Edward Lear Poems

Friendship Poems

Funny Poems

Lewis Carroll Poems

Limericks

Love Poems

Nonsense Poems

Nursery Rhymes

Random Poems

Random Poems - 1

Random Poems - 2

Random Poems - 3

Random Poems - 4

Random Poems - 5

Random Poems - 6

Random Poems - 7

Random Poems - 8

Random Poems - 9

Random Poems - 10

Random Poems - 11

Random Poems - 12

Random Poems - 13

Sad Poems

Scottish Poems

Short Poems

Spike Milligan Poems

Stuart Macfarlane Poems

Tongue Twisters - 1

Tongue Twisters - 2

Tongue Twisters - 3

Tongue Twisters - 4

Tongue Twisters - 5

T. S. Eliot

Valentine Poems

Limerick Contest

 

 

Aesopís Fables

Amusement

Christmas Jokes

College Humor

Complete Nonsense

Fairy Tales

Famous Poems

Famous Quotes

Free View Webcams

Friendship Quotes

Funny Cat Pictures

Funny Cats

Funny Jokes

Funny Jokes Online

Funny Pictures

Funny Poems

Funny Quotes

Ghosts

Ghost Pictures

Ghost Stories

Glaswegian

Humorous Scripts

Inspirational Poems

Jokes

Knock Knock Jokes

Limerick Poems

Limericks

Love Poems

Fantasy Books

Mockery

Not Mensa

Photographs

Poet

Poker Articles

Posters

Quotations Online

Riddles

Riddles Online

Duck Webcam

Strange Laws

Stupid Laws

Tongue Twisters

Weird Facts

Weird Websites

Weird

Worst City

Worst Jokes

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 - 387

 

The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt

Will you walk into my parlour?' said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there.'
Oh no, no,' said the little Fly, 'to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again.'


'I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?' said the Spider to the Fly.
'There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!'
Oh no, no,' said the little Fly, 'for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!'


Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, ' Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the warm affection I 've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome -- will you please to take a slice?'
'Oh no, no,' said the little Fly, 'kind Sir, that cannot be,
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!'


'Sweet creature!' said the Spider, 'you're witty and you're wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.'
'I thank you, gentle sir,' she said, 'for what you 're pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day.'


The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
'Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple -- there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!'

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue --
Thinking only of her crested head -- poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour -- but she ne'er came out again!


And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.


= = = = = = = = = =



Gus: The Theatre Cat by T S Eliot

Gus is the Cat at the Theatre Door.
His name, as I ought to have told you before,
Is really Asparagus. That's such a fuss
To pronounce, that we usually call him just Gus.
His coat's very shabby, he's thin as a rake,
And he suffers from palsy that makes his paw shake.
Yet he was, in his youth, quite the smartest of Cats--
But no longer a terror to mice and to rats.
For he isn't the Cat that he was in his prime;
Though his name was quite famous, he says, in its time.
And whenever he joins his friends at their club
(Which takes place at the back of the neighbouring pub)
He loves to regale them, if someone else pays,
With anecdotes drawn from his palmiest days.
For he once was a Star of the highest degree--
He has acted with Irving, he's acted with Tree.
And he likes to relate his success on the Halls,
Where the Gallery once gave him seven cat-calls.
But his grandest creation, as he loves to tell,
Was Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell.

'I have played,' so he says, 'every possible part,
And I used to know seventy speeches by heart.
I'd extemporize back-chat, I knew how to gag,
And I knew how to let the cat out of the bag.
I knew how to act with my back and my tail;
With an hour of rehearsal, I never could fail.
I'd a voice that would soften the hardest of hearts,
Whether I took the lead, or in character parts.
I have sat by the bedside of poor Little Nell;
When the Curfew was rung, then I swung on the bell.
In the Pantomime season I never fell flat,
And I once understudied Dick Whittington's Cat.
But my grandest creation, as history will tell,
Was Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell.'

Then, if someone will give him a toothful of gin,
He will tell how he once played a part in East Lynne.
At a Shakespeare performance he once walked on pat,
When some actor suggested the need for a cat.
He once played a Tiger--could do it again--
Which an Indian Colonel purused down a drain.
And he thinks that he still can, much better than most,
Produce blood-curdling noises to bring on the Ghost.
And he once crossed the stage on a telegraph wire,
To rescue a child when a house was on fire.
And he says: 'Now then kittens, they do not get trained
As we did in the days when Victoria reigned.
They never get drilled in a regular troupe,
And they think they are smart, just to jump through a hoop.'
And he'll say, as he scratches himself with his claws,
'Well, the Theatre's certainly not what it was.
These modern productions are all very well,
But there's nothing to equal, from what I hear tell,
That moment of mystery
When I made history
As Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell.'



= = = = = = = = = =



There was a Young Lady of Hull by Edward Lear

There was a Young Lady of Hull,
Who was chased by a virulent Bull;
But she seized on a spade,
And called out--'Who's afraid!'
Which distracted that virulent Bull.


= = = = = = = = = =



Baa, Baa, Black Sheep by Anonymous

Baa, baa, black sheep
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.
One for the master,
And one for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane.


= = = = = = = = = =



There was an Old Person of Ischia by Edward Lear

There was an Old Person of Ischia,
Whose conduct grew friskier and friskier;
He danced hornpipes and jigs,
And ate thousands of figs,
That lively Old Person of Ischia.



<-- Previous     |     Next -->

 

 

If you liked these poems take a look at our other great kids poems:

 

POEMS FOR CHILDREN

 
 

Most of the poems on Poems for Children are by Stuart Macfarlane and covered by copyright. Please do not use these without permission. Poems not written by Stuart Macfarlane are assumed to be in the public domain. If you spot any that you thing should not be here please let us know and it will be removed.

 

Copyright 2010 PoemsForChildren.org