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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 - 2286

 

Moo, Moo, Brown Cow by Anonymous

Moo, moo, brown cow
Have you any milk?
Yes miss, three jugs smooth as silk.
One for you,
And one for me,
And one for the little cat
Who sits in the tree.


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Growltiger's Last Stand by T S Eliot

GROWLTIGER was a Bravo Cat, who lived upon a barge;
In fact he was the roughest cat that ever roamed at large.
From Gravesend up to Oxford he pursued his evil aims,
Rejoicing in his title of 'The Terror of the Thames.'

His manners and appearance did not calculate to please;
His coat was torn and seedy, he was baggy at the knees;
One ear was somewhat missing, no need to tell you why,
And he scowled upon a hostile world from one forbidding eye.

The cottagers of Rotherhithe knew something of his fame,
At Hammersmith and Putney people shuddered at his name.
They would fortify the hen-house, lock up the silly goose,
When the rumour ran along the shore: GROWLTIGER'S ON THE LOOSE!

Woe to the weak canary, that fluttered from its cage;
Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that faced Growltiger's rage.
Woe to the bristly Bandicoot, that lurks on foreign ships,
And woe to any Cat with whom Growltiger came to grips!

But most to Cats of foreign race his hatred had been vowed;
To Cats of foreign name and race no quarter was allowed.
The Persian and the Siamese regarded him with fear--
Because it was a Siamese had mauled his missing ear.

Now on a peaceful summer night, all nature seemed at play,
The tender moon was shining bright, the barge at Molesey lay.
All in the balmy moonlight it lay rocking on the tide--
And Growltiger was disposed to show his sentimental side.

His bucko mate, GRUMBUSKIN, long since had disappeared,
For to the Bell at Hampton he had gone to wet his beard;
And his bosun, TUMBLEBRUTUS, he too had stol'n away-
In the yard behind the Lion he was prowling for his prey.

In the forepeak of the vessel Growltiger sate alone,
Concentrating his attention on the Lady GRIDDLEBONE.
And his raffish crew were sleeping in their barrels and their bunks--
As the Siamese came creeping in their sampans and their junks.

Growltiger had no eye or ear for aught but Griddlebone,
And the Lady seemed enraptured by his manly baritone,
Disposed to relaxation, and awaiting no surprise--
But the moonlight shone reflected from a thousand bright blue eyes.

And closer still and closer the sampans circled round,
And yet from all the enemy there was not heard a sound.
The lovers sang their last duet, in danger of their lives--
For the foe was armed with toasting forks and cruel carving knives.

Then GILBERT gave the signal to his fierce Mongolian horde;
With a frightful burst of fireworks the Chinks they swarmed aboard.
Abandoning their sampans, and their pullaways and junks,
They battened down the hatches on the crew within their bunks.

Then Griddlebone she gave a screech, for she was badly skeered;
I am sorry to admit it, but she quickly disappeared.
She probably escaped with ease, I'm sure she was not drowned--
But a serried ring of flashing steel Growltiger did surround.

The ruthless foe pressed forward, in stubborn rank on rank;
Growltiger to his vast surprise was forced to walk the plank.
He who a hundred victims had driven to that drop,
At the end of all his crimes was forced to go ker-flip, ker-flop.

Oh there was joy in Wapping when the news flew through the land;
At Maidenhead and Henley there was dancing on the strand.
Rats were roasted whole at Brentford, and at Victoria Dock,
And a day of celebration was commanded in Bangkok.



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Lickety, Splickety, and the Old Tom Cat by Author Unknown

Lickety, splickety, very pernickety
Mrs. O'Connolly hustles along on her
Rickety bicycle, cold as an icicle,
Treadalling pedalling meddling on!

And the old
tom cat
stretches slowly
by the fire.

What can the matter be, Mrs. O'Rafferty
Falling all over herself in her worry to
Get to the baker and pick out a cake for a
Jolly-good-gobble-it-down-in-a-hurry!

And the old
tom cat
pads slowly
up the stairs.

Oh what calamity, Mrs. O'Flamity
Falls out the window on top of a barrow -
it tumbles and jumbles up Mrs. O'Connolly -
Mrs. O'Rafferty slips down a narrow
Gap down by the gutter and falls in a pothole.
Oh mercy! The poor silly thing is in agony!
Mrs. O'Connolly's under a jag! Any
witnesses please to the dreadful calamity
Come to the Polis and please bring a bottle!

And the old
tom cat
rolls over, smiles, and sleeps.



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Stray Cat by Author Unknown

Dear God, please send me somebody who'll care.
I'm so tired of running and sick with despair.
My body is aching and filled with such pain;
And dear God I pray, as I run in the rain
That someone will love me and give me a home,
A warm cozy bed, and food of my own.
My last owner left me alone in the yard...
I watched as they moved, and God that was hard.
So I waited a while, then went on my way
To rummage in garbage and live as a stray.
But now, God, I'm so tired and hungry and cold;
And I'm so afraid that I'll never grow old.
They've chased me with sticks and hit me with straps
While I run the streets just looking for scraps.
I'm not really bad, God, please help if you can,
For I have become just a 'Victim of Man.'
I'm wormy, dear God, and I'm ridden with fleas;
And all that I want is an Owner to please.
If you find one for me, God, I'll try to be good.
I won't scratch the carpet; I'll do as I should.
I'll love them, play with them, and try to obey.
I will be so grateful if they'll let me stay.
I don't think I'll make it too long on my own,
'Cause I'm getting weak and I'm so all alone.
Each night as I sleep in the bushes I cry,
'Cause I'm so afraid, God, that I'm gonna die.
I've got so much love and devotion to give
That I should be given a new chance to Live.
So dear God, please hear me, please answer my prayer,
And send me somebody who will REALLY care


= = = = = = = = = =



When I was Young and Ignorant by Patrick Barrington

When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall,
Our days were spent in happiness, although our means were frugal;
We did not sigh for worldly wealth, for vain and tawdry treasures,
We were a simple country pair with simple country pleasures.
Beneath the village chestnut-tree it was our joy to meet once;
We used to tread the dewy fields with wonder-waking feet once;
We wandered once in leafy lanes and walked in Woodlands shady;
But now she's gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady

I loved her as I loved my life when I was young and tender,
And happily our time was spent although our means were slender.
We used to pass the golden days in countrified pursuits once;
We walked through simple country bogs in simple country boots once.
High hopes of happiness I had, but now my hopes are zero,
Alas! My love has left me now to carve her own career O;
Not all the hopes of her I had of her are worth a maravedi;
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.

My love now dwells in circus halls with clowns and tight-rope dancers,
Where dromedaries play bassoons and sea-lions do the lancers;
She moves amongst trick-bicyclists, buffoons and comic waiters,
With elephants and acrobats and prestidigitators.
No longer daily by my side she wanders through the hay now,
The glamour of the public eye has lured are far away now.
Remorseless Fates, my tender hopes how cruelly betrayed ye!
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.

When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall;
But that was e'er she heard the call of Fame's imperious bugle.
I thought her kind as she was fair, but I was green and calfish;
My love, though brighter than a star, was colder than a starfish.
High hopes of happiness I had when I was young and tender;
But time and tide have falsified my juvenile agenda.
Farewell, my castle is in the air! Phantasmal mansions, fade ye!
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.



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