Famous Children Poems - Page 3

I can’t wait for summer, when school days are done,
to spend the days playing outside in the sun.
I won’t have to study. No homework, no tests.
Just afternoons spent on adventures and quests.
Instead of mathematics and writing reports,
I’ll go to the park and play summertime sports.
Instead of assignments, report cards, and grades,
I’ll get to play baseball and watch the parades.
I’ll swing on the playground. I’ll swim in the pool
instead of just practicing lessons in school.
The second the school year is finally done
I’ll spend every minute with friends having fun.
I hardly can wait for the end of the year.
I’m counting the days until summer is here.
It’s hard to be patient. It’s hard to be cool.
It’s hard to believe it’s the first day of school.

“I Can’t Wait for Summer” copyright © 2005 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Published in When the Teacher Isn’t Looking. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
'Tis a marvel of great renown!
It blooms on the shore of the Lollypop sea
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
(As those who have tasted it say)
That good little children have only to eat
Of that fruit to be happy next day.

When you've got to the tree, you would have a hard time
To capture the fruit which I sing;
The tree is so tall that no person could climb
To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
And a gingerbread dog prowls below -
And this is the way you contrive to get at
Those sugar-plums tempting you so:

You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
And he barks with such terrible zest
That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,
As her swelling proportions attest.
And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around
From this leafy limb unto that,
And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground -
Hurrah for that chocolate cat!

There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
With stripings of scarlet or gold,
And you carry away of the treasure that rains,
As much as your apron can hold!
So come, little child, cuddle closer to me
In your dainty white nightcap and gown,
And I'll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.

I spot the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
And I am called pumpkins.
On the last of October
When dusk is fallen
Children join hands
And circle round me
Singing ghost songs
And love to the harvest moon;
I am a jack-o’-lantern
With terrible teeth
And the children know
I am fooling.

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
   Sailed off in a wooden shoe,—
Sailed on a river of crystal light
   Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
   The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring-fish
   That live in this beautiful sea;
   Nets of silver and gold have we,"
            Said Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
   As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
   Ruffled the waves of dew;
The little stars were the herring-fish
   That lived in the beautiful sea.
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,—
   Never afraid are we!"
   So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
            Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
   To the stars in the twinkling foam,—
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
   Bringing the fishermen home:
'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
   As if it could not be;
And some folk thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
   Of sailing that beautiful sea;
   But I shall name you the fishermen three:
            Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
   And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
   Is a wee one's trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
   Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
   As you rock in the misty sea
   Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:—
            Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

(sing to the tune of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game")

Let me out of the classroom.
Let me out of the school.
I’m not so good at geography.
I would rather be watching T.V.

It’s still twenty minutes till recess.
Lunch is hours away.
Won’t you please, please, please get me out
of the class today?

Someone’s here with a note now.
Teacher’s calling my name.
He says my mother is right outside.
I should go and she’ll give me a ride

to my yearly dentist appointment.
I forgot it’s today!
Teacher please, please, please help me out.
Won’t you let me stay?

“Let Me Out of the Classroom” copyright © 2007 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Published in Revenge of the Lunch Ladies. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

At evening when I go to bed
I see the stars shine overhead;
They are the little daisies white
That dot the meadow of the Night.

And often while I'm dreaming so,
Across the sky the Moon will go;
It is a lady, sweet and fair,
Who comes to gather daisies there.

For, when at morning I arise,
There's not a star left in the skies;
She's picked them all and dropped them down
Into the meadows of the town.

The sunshine has a pleasant way
Of shining on us all the day,
It makes the little window bright,
And fills the room with pretty light.

It goes into the garden bed,
And shines on every flower head;
It warms each leaf and bud and seed
Till all the world is glad, indeed.

It creeps into the children's faces
And climbs into the highest places,
It makes me want to work and sing
And do my best in everything.

I'm glad the sunshine comes each day
To help me work and laugh and play;
To keep the little window bright
And fill the room with pretty light.

In the heart of a seed,
    Buried deep, so deep,
A dear little plant
    Lay fast asleep.

"Wake!" said the sunshine,
    "And creep to the light."
"Wake!" said the voice
    Of the raindrops bright.

The little plant heard,
    And it rose to see
What the wonderful
    Outside world might be.

Tiny little snowflakes,
    In the air so high,
Are you little angels,
    Floating in the sky?
Robed so white and spotless,
    Flying like a dove,
Are you little creatures,
    From the world above?

Whirling on the sidewalk,
    Dancing in the street,
Kissing all the faces
    Of the children sweet,
Loading all the housetops,
    Powdering all the trees,—
Cunning little snowflakes,
    Little busy bees!

Up into the cherry tree
Who should climb but little me?
I held the trunk with both my hands
And looked abroad on foreign lands.

I saw the next door garden lie,
Adorned with flowers, before my eye,
And many pleasant places more
That I had never seen before.

I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sky's blue looking-glass;
The dusty roads go up and down
With people tramping in to town.

If I could find a higher tree,
Farther and farther I should see,
To where the grown-up river slips
Into the sea among the ships;

To where the roads on either hand
Lead onward into fairy land,
Where all the children dine at five,
And all the playthings come alive.

The people outside on the sidewalk
can’t seem to remain on the ground.
They’re jumping and hopping and springing,
and generally bouncing around.

I’ve never seen anything like it.
It’s such an unusual scene,
as if they have springs in their sneakers,
or bounce on a big trampoline.

I think I know what may have happened
that caused this chaotic event:
Last week they replaced our old sidewalk
with one made of rubber cement!

“Springy Sidewalk” copyright © 2021 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Published in The Aliens Have Landed at Our School. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

An oak tree and a rosebush grew,
Young and green together,
Talking the talk of growing things-
Wind and water and weather.
And while the rosebush sweetly bloomed
The oak tree grew so high
That now it spoke of newer things-
Eagles, mountain peaks and sky.
'I guess you think you're pretty great,'
The rose was heard to cry,
Screaming as loud as it possibly could
To the treetop in the sky.
'And now you have no time for flower talk,
Now that you've grown so tall.'
'It's not so much that I've grown,' said the tree,
'It's just that you've stayed so small.'

Birds all the sunny day
    Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbour-like
    Tent of the laurel.

Here in the fork
    The brown nest is seated;
Four little blue eggs
    The mother keeps heated.

While we stand watching her
    Staring like gabies,
Safe in each egg are the
    Bird's little babies.

Soon the frail eggs they shall
    Chip, and upspringing
Make all the April woods
    Merry with singing.

Younger than we are,
    O children, and frailer,
Soon in blue air they'll be,
    Singer and sailor.

We, so much older,
    Taller and stronger,
We shall look down on the
    Birdies no longer.

They shall go flying
    With musical speeches
High over head in the
    Tops of the beeches.

In spite of our wisdom
    And sensible talking,
We on our feet must go
    Plodding and walking.

Between the bookcase and the wall
'Is raised a castle, gray and tall,
The desk top is a wooden moat,
The rocking chair's a pirate boat,—
My little boy, turned six to-day,
Has fierce adventures in his play.

My little maid goes venturing, too,
O bold grim robbers—what a crew!
She helps to take the gold—but then
She hurries back to home again
For she must set the things for tea
With beautiful house-wifery.

The table's set upon the floor,
    The pirate marches in,
And eats and eats and asks for more
    With true piratic din.

O ye who never knew the life
Of dragon-hunting, golden strife
Of pirates on a windy sea
Returning meekly home for tea;
Who never heard the black knight's call—
I fear ye have not lived at all!

O bird that darts now low, now high,
You know the streets across the sky;
You know where leafy lanes lie deep
And quiet nooks to go to sleep;
You know the place to build a nest,
What twigs to use, what shape is best;
I wonder how you found things out
That scholars never know about;
I've studied large books through and through,
But never can be wise as you!

My bed is like a little boat;
    Nurse helps me in when I embark;
She girds me in my sailor's coat
    And starts me in the dark.

At night, I go on board and say
    Good night to all my friends on shore;
I shut my eyes and sail away
    And see and hear no more.

And sometimes things to bed I take,
    As prudent sailors have to do;
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,
    Perhaps a toy or two.

All night across the dark we steer;
    But when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room, beside the pier,
    I find my vessel fast.

Hello, my name is Andy.
I’m a fan of eating candy.
It’s delicious and it’s dandy,
and my favorite thing to eat.

When I want some sweets for eating,
I’ll be at your door repeating
that fantastic, famous greeting…
I’ll be shouting, “Trick or treat!”

I’ll be dressed up like a mummy,
out in search of something yummy,
like a chocolate bar or gummi.
I’ll be marching door-to-door.

And, as long as you have dishes
full of candy so delicious
it can satisfy my wishes,
I’ll keep coming back for more.

You might think I’m being sneaky,
or perhaps a little cheeky,
and some people say it’s freaky,
and they often ask me why…

And they tell me that it’s cheating
to be on their doorstep beating
on the front door, trick-or-treating,
in the middle of July.

“Candy Andy” copyright © 2021 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com