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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 - 2067

 

Incidents in the Life of my Uncle Arly by Edward Lear

From The Complete Nonsense Book,
edited by Lady Strachey, 1912

O! My aged Uncle Arly!
Sitting on a heap of Barley
Thro' the silent hours of night,--
Close beside a leafy thicket:--
On his nose there was a Cricket,--
In his hat a Railway-Ticket;--
(But his shoes were far too tight.)


II

Long ago, in youth, he squander'd
All his goods away, and wander'd
To the Tiniskoop-hills afar.
There on golden sunsets blazing,
Every morning found him gazing,--
Singing -- 'Orb! you're quite amazing!
How I wonder what you are!'




III

Like the ancient Medes and Persians,
Always by his own exertions
He subsisted on those hills;--
Whiles, -- by teaching children spelling,--
Or at times by merely yelling,--
Or at intervals by selling
'Propter's Nicodemus Pills.'



IV

Later, in his morning rambles
He perceived the moving brambles--
Something square and white disclose;--
'Twas a First-class Railway Ticket;
But, on stooping down to pick it
Off the ground, -- a pea-green Cricket
settled on my uncle's Nose.



V

Never -- never more, -- Oh! never,
Did that Cricket leave him ever,--
Dawn or evening, day or night;--
Clinging as a constant treasure,--
Chirping with a cheerious measure,--
Wholly to my uncle's pleasure
(Though his shoes were far too tight.)



VI

So for three-and-forty winters,
Till his shoes were worn to splinters,
All those hills he wander'd o'er,--
Sometimes silent; -- sometimes yelling;--
Till he came to Borley-Melling,
Near his old ancestral dwelling;--
(But his shoes were far too tight.)



VII

On a little heap of Barley
Died my aged uncle Arly,
And they buried him one night;--
Close beside the leafy thicket;--
There, -- his hat and Railway-Ticket;--
There, -- his ever-faithful Cricket;--
(But his shoes were far too tight.)






= = = = = = = = = =



The Purry Gates by Author Unknown

It seems that I've reached Heaven,
or it's doorstep at any rate,
and been winding round St. Peter's ankles
by the Pearly Gates,
I've plucked the angels' harp strings
and made a merry sound,
But it's plucking at my heartstrings
that you are not around.

So I think I'll sit and wait here,
just outside the door,
And as the souls come floating in,
I'll tap them with my paw,
And when you seek admittance,
they'll rename this place -
It will become Purradise,
and these the Purry Gates!



= = = = = = = = = =



There was an Old Man on some rocks by Edward Lear

There was an Old Man on some rocks,
Who shut his wife up in a box;
When she said, 'Let me out,'
He exclaimed, 'Without doubt,
You will pass all your life in that box.'


= = = = = = = = = =



The Four Friends by A. A. Milne

Ernest was an elephant, a great big fellow,
Leonard was a lion with a six foot tail,
George was a goat, and his beard was yellow,
And James was a very small snail.

Leonard had a stall, and a great big strong one,
Earnest had a manger, and its walls were thick,
George found a pen, but I think it was the wrong one,
And James sat down on a brick

Earnest started trumpeting, and cracked his manger,
Leonard started roaring, and shivered his stall,
James gave a huffle of a snail in danger
And nobody heard him at all.

Earnest started trumpeting and raised such a rumpus,
Leonard started roaring and trying to kick,
James went on a journey with the goats new compass
And he reached the end of his brick.

Ernest was an elephant and very well intentioned,
Leonard was a lion with a brave new tail,
George was a goat, as I think I have mentioned,
but James was only a snail.


= = = = = = = = = =



When you are old by William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.



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