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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 - 1768

 

There was an Old Man who said How by Edward Lear

There was an Old Man who said, 'How,--
Shall I flee from this horrible Cow?
I will sit on this stile,
And continue to smile,
Which may soften the heart of that Cow.'


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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


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Pinkle Purr by A A Milne

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
A little black nothing of feet and fur;
And by and by, when his eyes came through,
He saw his mother, the big Tattoo.
And all that he learned he learned from her,
'I'll ask my mother,' says Pinkle Purr.


Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
A ridiculous kitten with silky fur.
And little black Pinkle grew and grew
Till he got as big as the big Tattoo.
And all he did he did with her.
'Two friends together,' says Pinkle Purr.


Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
An adventurous cat in a coat of fur.
And whenever he thought of a thing to do,
He didn't much bother about Tattoo.
For he knows it's nothing to do with her,
So 'See you later,' says Pinkle Purr.


Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
An enormous leopard with coal-black fur.
A little brown kitten that's nearly new
Is now playing games with its big Tattoo...
And Pink looks lazily down at her:
'Dear little Tat,' says Pinkle Purr.


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Gray Thrums by Clara Doty Bates

Which is the cosiest voice,
The piping droning noise
When the kettle hums,
Or this little old-fashioned wheel
Spinning gray thrums?

Gray thrums! What wheel, you ask,
Turns at such pleasant task
With a soft whirr?
Why, the one in pussy's throat
That makes her purr.

Listen the rippling sound,
And think how round and round
The spindle goes,
As the drowsy thread she spins
Drowsily grows.

What will she do with it
When it is finished? Knit
Some mittens new?
Or shuttle it, and weave cloth
As weavers do?

A funny idea that,
A spinning wheel in a cat!
Yet how it hums!
Our puss is gray, so of course
She spins gray thrums.



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Early to bed by Mary Mapes Dodge

Early to bed and early to rise:
If that would make me wealthy and wise
Iíd rise at daybreak, cold or hot,
And go back to bed at once. Why not?



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