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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 - 1336

 

Prologue to Alice by Lewis Carroll

ALL in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little arms are plied,
While little hands make vain pretence
Our wanderings to guide.

Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour
Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather&xclm.
Yet what can one poor voice avail
Against three tongues together?

Imperious Prima flashes forth
Her edict ``to begin it'':
In gentler tones Secunda hopes
``There will be nonsense in it!''
While Tertia interrupts the tale
Not more than once a minute.

Anon, to sudden silence won,
In fancy they pursue
The dream-child moving through a land
Of wonders wild and new,
In friendly chat with bird or beast--
And half believe it true.

And ever, as the story drained
The wells of fancy dry,
And faintly strove that weary one
To put the subject by
``The rest next time--'' ``It is next time!''
The happy voices cry.

Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out--
And now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.

Alice! A childish story take,
And with a gentle hand,
Lay it where Childhoood's dreams are twined
In Memory's mystic band,
Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers
Pluck'd in a far-off land.


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There was a young Lady of Dorking by Edward Lear

There was a young Lady of Dorking,
Who bought a large bonnet for walking;
But its colour and size,
So bedazzled her eyes,
That she very soon went back to Dorking.


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Horse Whispers by Stuart Macfarlane

Come to the wild side,
Come to the wild side,
Come run in freedom,
Come chase the wind,
The stars in the heavens,
The ever green plane,
Come run in freedom,
Come run with us.
(Copyright Stuart Macfarlane)



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The Cat With Wings by Robert William Service

You never saw a cat with wings,
I'll bet a dollar -- well, I did;
'Twas one of those fantastic things
One runs across in old Madrid.
A walloping big tom it was,
(Maybe of the Angora line),
With silken ears and velvet paws,
And silver hair, superbly fine.

It sprawled upon a crimson mat,
Yet though crowds came to gaze on it,
It was a supercilious cat,
And didn't seem to mind a bit.
It looked at us with dim disdain,
And indolently seemed to sigh:
'There's not another cat in Spain
One half so marvelous as I.'

Its owner gently stroked its head,
And tickled it with fingers light.
'Ah no, it cannot fly,' he said;
'But see - it has the wings all right.'
Then tenderly from off its back
He raised, despite its feline fears,
Appendages that seemed to lack
Vitality - like rabbit's ears.

And then the vision that I had
Of Tabbie soaring through the night,
Quick vanished, and I felt so sad
For that poor pussy's piteous plight.
For though frustration has it stings,
Its mockeries in Hope's despite,
The hell of hells is to have wings
Yet be denied the bliss of flight.


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Sister Trouble by Stuart Macfarlane

Tomorrow is my birthday,
And Iíll be forty-four,
But I have an awful secret,
Never told before.

When I was only nine or ten,
And only half my height,
I put a frog in my sisterís bed,
Which gave her such a fright.

I never told a single soul,
In case I got a chiding,
So keep my awful secret please,
ĎCos, even now, Iím still in hiding!
(Copyright Stuart Macfarlane)




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