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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 - 1054

 

The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs by Edward Lear

I
The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs,
They all took a drive in the Park,
And they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong, Ding-a-dong,
Before they went back in the dark.
Mr. Poker he sate quite upright in the coach,
Mr. Tongs made a clatter and clash,
Miss Shovel was all dressed in black (with a brooch),
Mrs. Broom was in blue (with a sash).
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
And they all sang a song!



II
'O Shovel so lovely!' the Poker he sang,
'You have perfectly conquered my heart!
'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you're pleased with my song,
'I will feed you with cold apple tart!
'When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound,
'You encapture my life with delight!
'Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round!
'And your shape is so slender and bright!
'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
'Ain't you pleased with my song?'



III
'Alas! Mrs. Broom!' sighed the Tongs in his song,
'O is it because I'm so thin,
'And my legs are so long -- Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
'That you don't care about me a pin?
'Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room,
'Ah! why don't you heed my complaint!
'Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom,
'Because you are covered with paint?
'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
'You are certainly wrong!'



IV
Mrs. Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang,
'What nonsense you're singing to-day!'
Said the Shovel, 'I'll certainly hit you a bang!'
Said the Broom, 'And I'll sweep you away!'
So the Coachman drove homeward as fast as he could,
Perceiving their anger with pain;
But they put on the kettle and little by little,
They all became happy again.
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
There's an end of my song!




= = = = = = = = = =



Pussy can sit by the Fire and Sing by Rudyard Kipling

Pussy can sit by the fire and sing,
Pussy can climb a tree
Or play with a silly old cork and string
To 'muse herself, not me.
But I like Binkie my dog, because
He knows how to behave;
So, Binkie's the same as the First Friend was,
And I am the Man in the Cave!

Pussy will play Man Friday till
It's time to wet her paw
and make her walk on the window-sill
(For the footprint Crusoe saw);
Then she fluffles her tail and mews,
And scratches and won't attend
But Binkie will play whatever I choose,
And he is my true First Friend!

Pussy will rub my knees with her head
Pretending she loves me hard;
But the very minute I go to my bed
Pussy runs out in the yard,
And there she stays till the morning-light;
So I know it is only pretend
And he is my Firstest Friend.



= = = = = = = = = =



The White Knight's Song by Lewis Carroll

Haddock's Eyes' or 'The Aged Aged Man' or
'Ways and Means' or 'A-Sitting On A Gate'

I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged, aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
'Who are you, aged man?' I said.
'And how is it you live?'
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.

He said 'I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat;
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men,' he said,
'Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread--
A trifle, if you please.'

But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That it could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said,
I cried, 'Come, tell me how you live!'
And thumped him on the head.

His accents mild took up the tale;
He said, 'I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,
I set it in a blaze.
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's Macassar Oil--
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
They give me for my toil.'

But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue;
'Come, tell me how you live,' I cried
'And what it is you do!'

He said, 'I hunt for haddocks' eyes
Among the heather bright,
And work them into waistcoat-buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
Or coin of silvery shine,
But for a copper halfpenny,
And that will purchase nine.

'I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of hansom-cabs.
And that's the way' (he gave a wink)
'By which I get my wealth--
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honor's noble health.'

I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.

And now, if e'er by chance I put
My fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know--
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo--
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate.


= = = = = = = = = =



Sing a Song of Sixpence by Anonymous

Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.


When the pie was opened
The birds began to sing—
Wasn't that a dainty dish
To set before the king?


The king was in the counting-house
Counting out his money,
The queen was in the parlor
Eating bread and honey,


The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes.
Along came a blackbird
And snipped off her nose.


= = = = = = = = = =



There was an Old Man of Corfu by Edward Lear

There was an Old Man of Corfu,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he rushed up and down,
Till the sun made him brown,
That bewildered Old Man of Corfu.



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