Tag Archives: fun poems for children

Getting Sorted by James Aitchison

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One day I opened my wardrobe

and all the junk fell out!

Ten pairs of filthy shoes 

and a half-eaten Brussels sprout.

There were socks that smelled really gross,

some old underpants and a book,

and in a plastic lunchbox,

I found the remains of a chook.

A football my dog had chewed,

a tube of cream for my zits,

a few dead flies and a lizard,

and a shirt that no longer fits.

Such a disgusting mess —

I didn’t know what to say.

Back into the wardrobe it went,

To be sorted another day!

Image from Pixabay

Postcard from a Penguin by James Aitchison

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Hello, human,

how do you do?

Today’s my day

to write to you.

I’m a bird,

but I don’t have wings.

I have flippers —

very handy things!

I can fly through water

in search of fish.

A nice fresh squid 

is my favourite dish.

Some of us are blue,

others black and white;

when we come ashore

we make a great sight.

We hope you’ll always

be our friend —

keep the oceans clean

from end to end!

With waddling wishes,

         A penguin

Image from Pixabay

Lost Kite by Celia Berrell

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I’ve got a kite
whose tail’s quite white.
It’s strong and light
in colours bright.

With wind just right
my kite gains height.
The string’s pulled tight.
My kite’s in flight!

But my delight
soon turns to plight
when wind-gusts bite
with forceful spite
and push my kite
with such great might
the string can’t fight
and snaps in fright.

My falling kite’s
no more in flight
and lost to sight
as day turns night.

Image by Pixabay

Crash, Bang, Wallop by Diane Finlay

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Crash, bang, wallop
I’m starting up a band
Crash, bang, wallop
my drum stick hits the pan.

Crash, bang, wallop
it’s great to make a noise
Crash, bang, wallop
beats playing with my toys.

Crash, bang, wallop
my pan lid cymbals smash
Crash, bang, wallop
I love to yell and bash.

Crash, bang, wallop
it’s really going well
Crash, bang, wallop
this is music – can’t you tell?

Image from Pixabay

Mussels Not Muscles by James Aitchison

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These mussels come from the sea,

they’re not in a leg or an arm.

They’re very fresh and tasty,

and their shells are part of their charm.

Dig into the the bowl for a feast,

and eat a dozen or two;

the only muscles you’ll need

are the ones that help you chew.

Image from Pixabay

Cricketing Around by Meryl Brown Tobin

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Did you call me a grasshopper?
No way; I’m a cricket.
I’m one of two hundred eggs
my mum laid in the soil.

Do you reckon I look
like a mini-adult?
Sure I do because I shed my skin
as I grow and get a new one.

Notice I don’t fly much at all?
Why? Because I can’t––
my wings are too small.
See, I jump, jerk my way around.

Notice the tooth-like bits on my wings?
Only males have them. Listen, I can
rub them together. Hear a chirping sound?
It attracts the cricket chicks.

Ever heard me chirping at night?
That’s because I’m a nocturnal guy
and coldblooded so I liven up in the warm.
I’m warm now––hear me chirp.

Look out, here comes a lizard!
Hide me––I don’t want to be its snack.
Or a frog’s, a big spider’s or a tortoise’s.
Me, I love yummy fungi, plants, insects.

See my fancy compound eyes?
They let me look in many directions at once.
Check out my antennae, my feelers––
they pick up movement, help me catch prey.

Japanese and Chinese people reckon
I bring good luck. So make sure you’re nice to me.

Image from Pexels by Johnny Mckane

Who Are You by James Aitchison

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Hello, puppy, what’s your name?

Where did they find you?

Have you come to live at my place,

or are you passing through?

I got here first, I make the rules,

so set them in your head:

never ever eat my food, 

and don’t sleep in my bed! 

The Good Emu by James Aitchison

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This emu is fine,

obeying the sign,

doing no more than forty.

To run any faster

could spell disaster

and would be very naughty.

Teacher’s note: This photo was captured near Wilsons Promontory where many emus roam in the wild.

Chinzy and Arthur by Toni Newell

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Chintzy looked at Archer
Lying on the couch
He looked up and she said
You’re nothing but a slouch!
No I’m not, he replied
A puppy needs its sleep
Chintzy, she just sighed
Your excuses you can keep
Another hour passed
And Archer still lay there
Chintzy she was seething
And thought it was unfair
He was asleep in her spot
Where she should now be
But there wasn’t any room
For her to spread out and be free
She listened to him snoring
And decided just to leap
To snuggle in beside him
So she herself could sleep.
There they lay together
Each in their world of dreams
Sharing the space together
Cats and dogs can be friends it seems.

Our Garbage Man by James Aitchison

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Our garbage man comes once a week

To empty out our bin,

He takes away everything 

That Mum and Dad put in.

I wonder if he looks inside

To see what we’ve thrown out.

(All my worn out underpants

Would make him scream and shout!)

All our rotten vegies,

All our stinky cheese,

All the food that has expired,

Travels on the breeze.

No wonder he speeds off each week,

He doesn’t hang around.

With so much putrid garbage,

His wheels don’t touch the ground!