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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 - 1596

 

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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Lalila, to the Ferengi Lover by Laurence Hope

Shy above others was I so blessed
And honoured? to be the chosen one
To hold you, sleeping, against my breast,
As now I may hold your only son.


Twelve months ago; that wonderful night!
You gave your life to me in a kiss;
Have I done well, for that past delight,
In return, to have given you this?


Look down at his face, your face, beloved,
His eyes are azure as yours are blue.
In every line of his form is proved
How well I loved you, and only you.


I felt the secret hope at my heart
Turn suddenly to the living joy,
And knew that your life in mine had part
As golden grains in a brass alloy.


And learning thus, that your child was mine,
Thrilled by the sense of its stirring life,
I held myself as a sacred shrine
Afar from pleasure, and pain, and strife,


That all unworthy I might not be
Of that you had deigned to cause to dwell
Hidden away in the heart of me,
As white pearls hide in a dusky shell.


Do you remember, when first you laid
Your lips on mine, that enchanted night?
My eyes were timid, my lips afraid,
You seemed so slender and strangely white.


I always trembled; the moments flew
Swiftly to dawn that took you away,
But this is a small and lovely you
Content to rest in my arms all day.


Oh, since you have sought me, Lord, for this,
And given your only child to me,
My life devoted to yours and his,
Whilst I am living, will always be.


And after death, through the long To Be,
(Which, I think, must surely keep love's laws,)
I, should you chance to have need of me,
Am ever and always, only yours.



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There was an Old Lady of Prague by Edward Lear

There was an Old Lady of Prague,
Whose language was horribly vague;
When they said, 'Are these caps?'
She answered, 'Perhaps!'
That oracular Lady of Prague.


= = = = = = = = = =



There was an Old Man of Cape Horn by Edward Lear

There was an Old Man of Cape Horn,
Who wished he had never been born;
So he sat on a chair,
Till he died of despair,
That dolorous Man of Cape Horn.


= = = = = = = = = =



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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