Tag Archives: fun poems for children

Poem of the Day

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Charlie’s Lunch

 

Oops!

I’ve got my brother’s lunchbox

With The Wiggles on the lid,

He must have picked up mine instead

(He’s just a little kid.)

So Charlie’s got my health bar

And my favourite yoghurt snack,

And I’ve got little kiddie lunch –

Too late to change it back.

I could go and see the teacher,

But she’ll say, “Don’t bother me,”

I guess I’m stuck with Charlie’s lunch,

I’ll be half starved by three.

 

Here we go….what is this stuff?

One tin of custard pears,

Two egg and lettuce sandwiches

Cut into tiny squares,

Three cherry drops with jelly tops,

Four skinny carrot sticks,

Five cubes of watermelon, no,

You’d better make that six.

And right down at the bottom is-

What’s this! A chocolate crunch!

WOW!

Where’s my place? I need some space,

I’m having Charlie’s lunch.

 Jill McDougall
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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Bubble Trouble

 

I’ll tell you the trouble with bubbles:

They burst like a punctured balloon

As they fall on a sharp piece of rubble,

Or they fail on their flight to the moon.

It’s useless to try to collect them.

They’re not like a coin or a stamp.

For the hand that you raise to protect them

You’ll soon find is feeling quite damp.

 

Yet bubbles, you’d better believe it,

Can actually be lots of fun.

You can catch them and snatch them

And quickly despatch them

Until you have burst every one.

You can chase them all over your garden.

You can watch them drift over a wall.

Though you run like a hare,

As they’re mostly just air,

When you search you’ll find nothing at all!

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #2

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Poem of the Day

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Mish and Mash

 

I love to cook a mish and mash

A pineapple avocado smash

Cranberry and potato soup

A pea and parsnip ice-cream scoop

A pepper zucchini chocolate slice

Special strawberry chilli rice

Pizza topped with jelly beans

Devil’s food cake served with greens.

I love to cook a mish and mash

Dinner’s done now – got to dash.

Jessica Nelson

Jessica said: Mish and Mash is my response to 2016 poetry prompt #45 (Food). This poem was inspired by the ‘cooking’ my siblings and I used to do as children, where any ingredients we could find were thrown together in the mixing bowl, with varied results.

poetry-prompt-45

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Flea

 

Jumping, biting, annoying,

Sneaky little flea.

Scritch, scratch, scritch,

I have a terrible itch.

 

How do I ditch this itch?

A flea on board,

Becomes a terrible game.

Flea twister is no fun,

Trying to find the little biter.

 

Take off your clothes,

And jump into the sea,

Swim, dive, and float,

Surf a few waves.

 

No more itch,

Wash those clothes,

Peace at last,

No more sneaky little flea.

 

Karen Hendriks

Poem of the Day

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The class photo

The photo man’s getting quite hot in the face,

he really is looking a mess.

He’s spent a whole hour trying to get us in place

but he hasn’t had any success.

 

Annabelle’s tripped over Christopher’s chair

and Bethany’s started to bleat

’Cause Ben spat his chewing gum into her hair

after stomping on both of her feet.

 

Emma keeps poking her tongue out at Rose,

Alison’s taking a nap.

The girls in the front are adjusting their bows

and won’t keep their hands in their lap.

 

Tom’s spilled the drink he’s been secretly slurping

all over the back of my neck

and someone above me keeps farting and burping.

The photo man’s looking a wreck!

 

He’s glaring at me and I wish I could hide,

he’s just about out of his mind.

But it’s hard to keep both of my hands by my side

when I’m poked in the ribs from behind.

 

We’ve finally stopped all the wriggles and squeals

but I’m not sure the photo’s still on

’cause the photo man’s suddenly turned on his heels

And he’s packed up the camera and gone.

Jenny Erlanger
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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The New Ssstudent

 

Slithering, whispering

A snake came to class

Brightly glittering

Its scales like glass

 

Short, thick body

Banded with grey

Wiggling lure tail

Tempting for prey.

 

Terrible, horrible

It gave us a turn

But Mrs MacWinkle

Said, ‘It may wish to learn.’

 

Snake failed English

Again and again;

Snakes are not built

For holding a pen.

 

Snake could not learn

To decipher a map,

Of history and science

It knew not a scrap.

 

But to our surprise

That snake was able

To complete with a snap

The seven times table.

 

At sums and fractions

It couldn’t be greater:

Its mind was just like

The best calculator.

 

When we realised the truth

We could hardly be gladder:

Mathematics comes easy

When you are an adder.

Jessica Nelson
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

poetry-prompt-4

 

 

 

 

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A Letter from the Principal

Dear Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith,

I’m writing you this letter

because your son’s behaviour

isn’t getting any better.

 

His writing is untidy and

his spelling is a worry.

He’s often late and consequently,

always in a hurry.

 

His recent science project

nearly caused a school disaster.

The explosion covered twenty boys

in clouds of ceiling plaster.

 

He’s been with us for twenty years,

or is it twenty two?

Dear Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith,

just what are we to do?

 

He’s untidy and he’s silly

and he always acts the fool,

but still the students say he’s

the best teacher in our school.

Pat Simmons
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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First Day

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

listening, leap frogging,

growing learning’s wings?

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

singing, seeking friends,  perhaps

learning not to cling?

 

Will you notice as

your tomorrows become todays

patterned by

the daily school bell rings?

 

Will you find each day might

have a surprise

like a snake catcher visiting with

super thin snake skin?

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

As your school journey begins?

 

June Perkins

Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

poetry-prompt-4

 

June said: With ‘First Day’ I started with the idea of a ‘big tomorrow’, and thought about yesterday, today, tomorrow, routines and surprises.

I also remembered a time when my son had a snake catcher visit his school and so the poem was born.

 

 

 

 

 

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Forty all

 

This is the tale of a horrid blister,

caused directly by my sister.

 

I borrowed her shoes for a tennis twosome,

and soon my heel became very gruesome.

 

First it rubbed pink, and then bright red,

and as I played, it bled and bled.

 

There were pools of blood all over the place

Some of it splashed as far as my face.

 

I used plenty of bandaids, criss and cross,

and kept on playing, splish and splosh.

 

I slid and slithered around that court,

never was a game so wetly fought.

 

But in all that blood, I lost the ball,

so the game was ended, forty all.

 

My blistered heel was a dreadful pain,

but sister said it was a bloody good game.

 

Margaret Pearce

 

Poem of the Day

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Billy Bonder and the Beautiful Belly Button Bubbles

 

Billy Bonder often pondered

While sitting naval gazing

Just what it was about belly buttons

He found totally amazing

 

The button turned nothing on or off

It seemed to have no use

Perhaps he thought its purpose was

To stop his bum from coming loose

 

So finally he thought it time

To try and make a start

And find some useful purpose

For this lazy body part

 

It was all that Billy thought about

‘til it gave him tummy trouble

And then one day by accident

His belly button blew a bubble

 

The pity was for all concerned

That it seemed that at the start

The only way to blow a belly bubble

Was to counter balance with a fart

 

But Billy took the time to practice

Even Mum was tickled pink

When he blew beautiful belly bubbles

Without the noise or awful stink

 

With his special new found skill

Billy Bonder shot to fame

The beautiful belly button bubbles

Meant everybody knew his name

 

While it was an innovation

And quite startling and new

Billy realised he would be old news

In just a week (or maybe two)

 

And he was right, it wasn’t long

Before someone had him beat

Jenny Jones from Jonbley Junction

Could knit jumpers with her feet

 

So while the button did him proud

And brought Billy fleeting fame

His belly button could now retire

And start collecting lint again

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #2

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