Best Children's Poetry - Page 2

The red and white striped lighthouse,
Standing by the sea,
As quiet as a mouse,
Telling boats where it be.

Against the rocks a wave crashes.
The lighthouse just stares on.
Suddenly some lightning flashes,
But he's gonna stare till dawn.

The red and white striped lighthouse,
Standing by the sea,
As quiet as a mouse,
Telling boats where it be.

He shines his light through the thick fog,
As rain darkens the sands.
He shines his light through all the smog.
On the rocks he proudly stands.

The red and white striped lighthouse,
Standing by the sea,
As quiet as a mouse,
Telling boats where it be.

The rising sun makes the ocean glisten bright.
A couple comes out to see the astonishing sight.
There is no need to shine, for it's no longer night,
And the lighthouse slowly fades out its light.

Who am I?
I am a surprise
I don't have eyes
I'm wrapped in plastic
I am fantastic
I could be red
But I'm not dead
I could be blue
Bluer than you
I could be pink
But I don't think
Make up your mind
I'm not hard to find
You could find me in a Milk Bar
Or eat me in the car
I do not walk
I do not talk
But most of all I don't taste like pork
I am not shy
I do not cry
I will never let out a wimpy sigh
I find myself covered in spit
Then fall into a bottomless pit
Serena Williams likes my taste
But doesn't like tomato paste
Do not be scared of me
All I want to be is free
I am very nice
I don't taste like rice
You can't cut me into a slice
I'm filled with sugar
But don't think I'm a booger
Do not fear
I don't taste like beer
But when I'm around everyone will cheer
People will stop
When they see me in the shop
You'll buy me five times over
Like I'm a four leaf clover
People say I rock
But I don't smell like a sock
You might say I'm food
But I'm never in a bad mood
I might ask Sam
Who I am
He might say "What?"
And tell me who I'm not.

There is this funny guy I know.
Sleepy by name and sneaky as can be.
I never know where he comes from,
Only that he creeps up on me.

He is very cunning, you see.
He often makes me feel like a fool.
He jerks my head or slurs my speech,
And he sometimes makes me drool.

He can put things in a swirl
So I can't tell which is which.
And the stuff I don't want to let go,
He easily takes out of my reach.

Still, a generous guest is he,
Always comes with a soothing balm,
To lull my body and renew my strength
And make my mind to be calm.

When he leaves and where he goes,
That is hard for me to say.
But as rude as he is, I'm always glad
For Sleepy's sly visit every day.