childrens poetry

Nostalgia-inducing poetry inspired by our earliest favorites; from Dr. Seuss to Mother Goose, children’s poetry is all grown up.

Omnivorous Spring
Songbirds chirped, time to rise, Papa rolled from bed. His tummy rumbled, his wife's asleep, "Wake-up sleepy head." _____
By Bryan R..5 years ago in Poets
The Turtle Song
I am a turtle cute and green, I am here to sing, Please do not get mean I have a shiny shell, It stores my things well,
By Kristen Renee5 years ago in Poets
The Pink Daisy
There once was a pink daisy, Whose family was quite crazy, So many colors had they That other flowers simply ran away, They skittered and they scattered,
By John Kindle5 years ago in Poets
There's a Hair in My Risotto
If you’re ever in my city, Looking for a place to eat, You have to go to Gino’s, The spaghetti can’t be beat. You must try the bruschetta,
By Megan Mears5 years ago in Poets
Just go to bed
So I can remember what a sweet, perfect, precious cherub you are when you're unconscious of the fact that I am making myself
By Laura Todd5 years ago in Poets
Tilly the clumsy cat
Tilly the cat woke with the sun The morning is here, it is time for some fun She could not decide there was so much to do
By Floyd Doolittle5 years ago in Poets
Where is Home?
Where is Home? The place at night where I lie. Doors and windows. Roof and walls. Family walking through the halls.
By Sarah Massey5 years ago in Poets
Pasta Me Crazy
Little Johnny loved his spaghetti His mom made it for him almost every night Noodles piled up high, plenty of tomato sauce
By Dancing Dumpling5 years ago in Poets
Bored
Devin and Katie were bored. There was nothing to do. So they wiggled and they waggled, they jiggled and the giggled, they bounced and they pounced,
By Kari McLeese5 years ago in Poets
The Caterpillar in the Chair
There once was a caterpillar who sat in a chair He came out every morning to enjoy the fresh air An umbrella, refreshments, and a hat were just right
By Floyd Doolittle5 years ago in Poets
The Magical Velvet Black Book
It was a cold winter morning in early March, just bfore after dawn.I saw no lights one. Several years ago I was born on that day. Surrounded by trees, in a pile of white leaves, A tad different I was from the others you see. Their ears seemed to be a little pointier than me. Mine were quite soft on one side, actually quite round. The other side was a little pointy lying there on the ground.
By Suzanne Newman5 years ago in Poets
A little poet
Just a random collection of some first-time poetry. There once was a boy named Drew. He grew and grew and grew, Once he was done,
By Maria Lane5 years ago in Poets