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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 - 1041

 

Portrait of a Baby by Stephen Vincent Benet

He lay within a warm, soft world
Of motion. Colors bloomed and fled,
Maroon and turquoise, saffron, red,
Wave upon wave that broke and whirled
To vanish in the grey-green gloom,
Perspectiveless and shadowy.
A bulging world that had no walls,
A flowing world, most like the sea,
Compassing all infinity
Within a shapeless, ebbing room,
An endless tide that swells and falls . . .
He slept and woke and slept again.
As a veil drops, Time dropped away;
Space grew a toy for children's play,
Sleep bolted fast the gates of Sense--
He lay in naked impotence;
Like a drenched moth that creeps and crawls
Heavily up brown, light-baked walls,
To fall in wreck, her task undone,
Yet somehow striving toward the sun.
So, as he slept, his hands clenched tighter,
Shut in the old way of a fighter,
His feet curled up to grip the ground,
His muscles tautened for a bound;
And though he felt, and felt alone,
Strange brightness stirred him to the bone,
Cravings to rise--till deeper sleep
Buried the hope, the call, the leap;
A wind puffed out his mind's faint spark.
He was absorbed into the dark.
He woke again and felt a surge
Within him, a mysterious urge
That grew one hungry flame of passion;
The whole world altered shape and fashion.
Deceived, befooled, bereft and torn,
He scourged the heavens with his scorn,
Lifting a bitter voice to cry
Against the eternal treachery--
Till, suddenly, he found the breast,
And ceased, and all things were at rest,
The earth grew one warm languid sea
And he a wave. Joy, tingling, crept
Throughout him. He was quenched and slept.

So, while the moon made broad her ring,
He slept and cried and was a king.
So, worthily, he acted o'er
The endless miracle once more.
Facing immense adventures daily,
He strove still onward, weeping, gayly,
Conquered or fled from them, but grew
As soil-starved, rouph pine-saplings do.
Till, one day, crawling seemed suspect.
He gripped the air and stood erect
And splendid. With immortal rage
He entered on man's heritage!


= = = = = = = = = =



Hodge the Cat by Susan Coolidge

Burly and big, his books among,
Good Samuel Johnson sat,
With frowning brows and wig askew,
His snuff-strewn waistcoat far from new;
So stern and menacing his air,
That neither Black Sam,
nor the maid
To knock or interrupt him dare;
Yet close beside him, unafraid,
Sat Hodge, the cat.

'This participle,' the Doctor wrote,
'The modern scholar cavils at,
But,' - even as he penned the word,
A soft, protesting note was heard;
The Doctor fumbled with his pen,
The dawning thought took wings and flew,
The sound repeated, come again,
It was a faint, reminding 'Mew!'
From Hodge, the cat...

The Dictionary was laid down,
The Doctor tied his vast cravat,
And down the buzzing street he strode,
Taking an often-trodden road,
And halted at a well-known stall:
'Fishmonger,' spoke the Doctor gruff,
'Give me six oysters, that is all;
Hodge knows when he has had enough,
Hodge is my cat.'

Then home; puss dined and while in sleep
he chased a visionary rat,
His master sat him down again,
Rewrote his page, renibbed his pen;
Each 'i' was dotted, each 't' was crossed,
He labored on for all to read,
Nor deemed that time was waste or lost
Spent in supplying the small need
Of Hodge, the cat.

The dear old Doctor! Fierce of mien,
Untidy, arbitrary, fat,
What gentle thought his name enfold!
So generous of his scanty gold.
So quick to love, so hot to scorn,
Kind to all sufferers under heaven,
A tend'rer despot ne'er was born;
His big heart held a corner, even
For Hodge, the cat.

Sarah Chauncy Woolsey (Susan Coolidge)



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How Do I Love Thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.


= = = = = = = = = =



The Lion by Spike Milligan

If you're attacked by a Lion
Find fresh underpants to try on
Lay on the ground quite still
Pretend you are very ill
Keep like that day after day
Perhaps the lion will go away


= = = = = = = = = =



The Robber Kitten - Nursery Rhyme by Author Unknown

A kitten once to its mother said,
'I'll never more be good;
But I'll go and be a robber fierce,
And live in a dreary wood,
Wood, wood, wood,
And live in a dreary wood.'

So off it went to the dreary wood,
And there it met a cock,
And blew its hat, with a pistol, off,
Which gave it an awful shock!
Shock, shock, shock,
Which gave it an awful shock!

It climbed a tree to rob a nest
Of young and tender owls
But the branch broke off and the kitten fell,
With six tremendous howls!
Hows, hows, howls,
With six tremendous howls!

Soon after that it met a cat;
'Now, give to me your purse;
Or I'll shoot you through, and stab you too,
And kill you, which is worse!
Worse, worse, worse,
And kill you, which is worse.' One day it met a Robber Dog,
And they sat down to drink;
The dog did joke, and laugh and sing
Which made the kitten wink,
Wink, wink, wink!
Which made the kitten wink!

At last they quarrelled; then they fought,
Beneath the greenwood tree;
Till puss was felled with an awful club,
Most terrible to see!
See, see, see,
Most terrible to see!

When puss got up, its eye was shut,
And swelled, and black, and blue;
Moreover, all its bones were sore,
So it began to mew!
Mew, mew, mew,
So it began to mew!

Then up it rose, and scratched its nose,
And went home and said;
'Oh! Mother dear, behold me here,
I'll never more be bad,
Bad, bad, bad,
I'll never more be bad.'



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