Famous Children Poems - Page 4

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.'

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!

The coach is at the door at last;
The eager children, mounting fast
And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

To house and garden, field and lawn,
The meadow-gates we swang upon,
To pump and stable, tree and swing,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

And fare you well for evermore,
O ladder at the hayloft door,
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

Crack goes the whip, and off we go;
The trees and houses smaller grow;
Last, round the woody turn we swing:
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything!

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.

It was six men of Indostan,
    To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the elephant,
    (Though all of them were blind,)
That each by observation
    Might satisfy his mind.

The first approached the elephant,
    And, happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
    At once began to bawl:
"God bless me! but the elephant
    Is very like a wall!"

The second, feeling of the tusk,
    Cried: "Ha! what have we here,
So very round, and smooth, and sharp?
    To me 't is very clear,
This wonder of an elephant
    Is very like a spear!"

The third approached the animal,
    And, happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
    Thus boldly up he spake:
"I see," quoth he, "the elephant
    Is very like a snake!"

The fourth reached out his eager hand,
    And fell about the knee:
"What most this wondrous beast is like,
    Is very plain," quoth he;
"'T is clear enough the elephant
    Is very like a tree!"

The fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
    Said: "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most:
    Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an elephant
    Is very like a fan!"

The sixth no sooner had begun
    About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
    That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the elephant
    Is very like a rope!"

And so these men of Indostan
    Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
    Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
    And all were in the wrong!

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

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

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.

Swinging on a birch-tree
    To a sleepy tune,
Hummed by all the breezes
    In the month of June!
Little leaves a-flutter
    Sound like dancing drops
Of a Brook on pebbles,—
    Song that never stops.

Up and down we seesaw:
    Up into the sky;
How it opens on us,
    Like a wide blue eye!
You and I are sailors
    Rocking on a mast;
And the world's our vessel:
    Ho! she sails so fast!