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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 - 1350

 

The Naming of Cats by T S Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.



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A Cat in My Lap by Karen Boxell

I know I have a lot to do,
So many things - see them through.
There are clothes to clean, grass to mow,
Cookies to bake, seeds to sow.
But I really can't do all these things in a snap.
Because, you see, there's a cat in my lap.

He stretches and rolls and gives me a wink,

From his sleepy gold eyes - just a small blink.
I smooth his long tail and tickle his tummy,
He yawns and purrs to tell me that's yummy.
The telephone rings. The paper boy taps.
No move do I make. There's a cat in my lap.

Bright sunlight dances across the floor,
To warm my small friend just a bit more.
A happy prisoner am I in my chair -

Some moments of peace - not a care.
I think I'll take a little nap,
With this soft, furry ball, a cat in my lap.


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Birthday Boy by Stuart Macfarlane

Birthday Boy,
Birthday Boy,
Broke all his games,
Trashed all his toys,

Burst all his birthday balloons,
Put snails on the cake,
Hit all his party friends,
And really made them ache.

Threw jelly at his sister,
Causing her to cry,
Swallowed every birthday card,
And nobody knows why,

Messing with the candles,
He set the cat on fire,
Then caused his mum to tumble,
On a secret trip-up wire.
(Copyright Stuart Macfarlane)



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There are holes in The Sky by Spike Milligan

There are holes in the sky
Where the rain gets in
But there ever so small
That's why the rain is thin.


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First Kiss by Stuart Macfarlane

First Kiss
Nervously they stand behind the bicycle shed,
All of twelve, more full of Beanos and Barbie Dolls,
And here they are, more for a dare than to explore the opposite sex,
But they are here and there is no way of turning back.
 
Clumsily he takes her hand and their blushes erupt,
They’ve seen it in the movies . . . they know what a kiss is,
But the question is – why would you do something like that?
Timidly they force a smile – avoiding each other’s eyes.
 
But there is no turning back, so they might as well get it over with,
They close their eyes and move towards each other,
Awkwardly noses collide – but nothing seems to be broken,
Their lips meet.
 
For thirty-three seconds, lips explore each other,
Sweet, innocent nectar finding there,
And, as they part to go to French and Geography,
She wishes she could rip out her braces and he curses his latest zit.
(Copyright Stuart Macfarlane)



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