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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 - 1875

 

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.


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Mother Tabbyskins - Nursery Rhyme by Author Unknown

Sitting at a window,
In her cloak and hat,
I saw Mother Tabbyskins,
The real old cat!

Very old, very old,
Cruplety and lame;
Teaching kittens how to scold--
Is it not a shame?

Kittens in the garden,
Looking in her fce,
Learning how to spit and swear,
Oh, what a disgrace!

Very wrong, very wrong,
Very wrong, and gbad;
Such a subject for our song,
Makes us all too sad.

Old Mother Tabbyskins,
Sticking out her hand,
Gave a howl, and then a yowl,
Hobbled off to bed.

Very sick, very sick,
Very savage, too;
Pray send for a doctor quick,
Any one will do!

Doctor mouse came creeping,
Creeping to her bed;
Lanced her gums and felt her pulse,
Whispered she was dead.
Very sly, very sly,
The real old cat,
Open kept her weather eye--
Mouse! Beware of that!

Old Mother Tabbyskins,
Saying 'Serves hm right,'
Gobbled up the doctor,
With infinite delight.

'Very fast, very fast,
Very pleasant, too--
What a pity it can't last!
Bring another, do.'

Doctor Dog comes running,
Jus to see her begs;
Round his neck a comforter,
Trousers on his legs.

Very grand, very grand--
Golden-headed cane
Swinging gaily from his hand,
Mischief in his brain!

'Dear Mother Tabbyskins,
And how are you now?
Let me feel your pulse--so, so;
Show your tongue--bow wow.'

'Very ill, very ill.'
'Please attempt to purr;
Will you take a draught or pill?
Which do you prefer?'
Ah, Mother Tabbyskins,
Who is now afraid?
Of poor little Doctor Mouse
You a mouthful made.

Very nice, very nice,
Little doctor he,
But for Doctor Dog's advice
You must pay the fee.

Doctor Dog comes nearer,
Says she must be bled;
I heard Mother Tabbyskins
Screaming in her bed.

Very close, very close,
Scuffling out and in;
Doctor Dog looks full and gross--
Where is Tabbyskins?

I will tell the moral
Without any fuss;
Those who lead the young astray,
Always suffer thus,

Very nice, very nice,
Let our conduct be;
For all doctors are not mice,
Some are dogs, you see!


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Cottleston Pie by A. A. Milne

Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.

Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
Why does a chicken? I don't know why.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.

Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fish can't whistle and neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.


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Macavity: The Mystery Cat by T S Eliot

Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw--
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime--Macavity's not there!

Macavity, Macavity, there's no on like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime--Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air--
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!

Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly doomed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square--
But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!

He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair--
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!

And when the Foreign Office finds a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scap of paper in the hall or on the stair--
But it's useless of investigate--Macavity's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
'It must have been Macavity!'--but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macacity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibit, or one or two to spare:
And whatever time the deed took place--MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!



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Thoughts Oan an Egg by Stuart Macfarlane


There once wis an egg,
Wae only wan leg,
But it did huv a passion,
For smashin'.
(Copyright Stuart Macfarlane)†




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