poetry for children

Sigmund A. Boloz Home > Poetry for Children

GRANDPA'S WATER

Grandpa was feeling awfully thirsty
But no one else was around,
Except his young granddaughter who was watching television,
While laying upon the ground.

"Be a dear," smiled Grandpa,
" Fetch Grandpa a drink.
Go and fill Grandpa's glass with water
From the kitchen sink."

But granddaughter was too little,
Much shorter than the kitchen sink,
So she had to find another way
To get water for Grandpa's drink.

And she remembered the water
Left out in the white bowl
Next to the paper
That comes out in a roll.

So, off to the bathroom
Young granddaughter took a stroll
To get Grandpa a glass of water
From Grandpa's old toilet bowl.

TWENTY LITTLE MUNCHKINS:
A DAY AT THE ZOO

Twenty little munchkins, an assorted little crew,
Hopped off the bus for a day at the zoo,
For a day with the animals, an endangered species review,
A little theme study, their teacher had planned to pursue.
" Now hold on to your partner, while we're here at the zoo.
And don't wonder off!" He reminded. " You'll get lost if you do!"

Then twenty little munchkins with name tags secure,
Stepped through the gate and began their tour
With one brand-new teacher leading the way,
Carrying his plan book in full display.

Down through the big cats and past nesting birds
Into beautiful exhibits with lots of big words.
Back to the monkeys and across a large ridge,
Through numerous displays, past the elephant show,
Mingling with others munchkin groups, as munchkins do go.

With the teacher all the time pointing and clearing his throat,
Leading while talking or making some note.
Then finally, exhausted, he had them sit upon the grass,
When suddenly he screamed. " Holy cow! I've got the wrong class!"

And off he went running down throughout the zoo,
Back up and over and around and through.
But to his distress, he found not a one,
And spent his time crying in the hot noon sun.

So he went looking for a policeman, not knowing what else to do.
He had lost twenty little munchkins in but one day at the zoo.
When suddenly twenty little munchkins, all in a row,
Came marching his way, as munchkins do go.

"Where you been, teacher? We've been looking for you.
You don't wander off, while we're here at the zoo!"
Then twenty little munchkins with their teacher in tow,
Went marching out as munchkins do go.
And twenty little munchkins with his name tag secure,
Stepped through the gate and went home from their tour.

THE WEREWOLF AND THE BULLET

Mountains in the moonlight.
A werewolf howls.
Up in a tree
Sits a yellow-eyed owl.

A terrified woman
Runs as fast as she can
But in the moonlight
She sees the werewolf man.

She screams out loud
But no one hears,
Except the bloody-faced werewolf
With the long, pointed ears.

The werewolf jumps high
From his mountain top.
She shots her silver bullet
And there the werewolf drops.

HOW DO VAMPIRES SOUND

Horses neigh.
Cows go moo.
Cats meow.
Owls say,"Whooo!"
But how do vampires sound?

Dogs bark.
Lions go,"Roar!"
Wolves howl
And there are many more.
But how do vampires sound?

Monsters yell,"Raaaa!"
Witches laugh,"Hee,hee,hee!"
Ghosts say, "Boo!"
And they all scare me.
But how do vampires sound?

IN THE DARK

Stormy night.
Fat raindrops fall.
The wind is screaming
Like ghosts might call.

Screen doors slam.
Windows seem to crack.
The hair stands up
Upon my young back.

Storm clouds rumble.
Lightning bolts crash.
My skin breaks out
In a sweaty rash.

My heart beats fast
As mean dogs bark,
While in my own house I sit
Afraid of the dark.

FRIED TURKEY

There once was a crazy, young turkey,
Who did some very strange things.
He dreamed of flying to the moon
And practiced by flapping his wings.

He'd tried jumping off the rocks,
And the tallest pine tree he could find,
While the other turkeys just shook their heads and said,
" My Gosh! He must have lost his mind.

Then one night he had a better idea
And shot himself out of a big gun,
But he travelled right past the moon that night
And landed fully fried on the sun!

THE HALLOWEEN MOUSE

Across the floor,
Along the wall,
Quietly, quietly
Then down the hall.
Stopping to glance
Once left, twice right
Then scurrying, scurrying
Throughout the night.

And then quietly, quietly
Down the hall,
Across the floor
And along the wall
The Halloween mouse
Scrambles here and about
Gathering treats
As she goes in and out.

Across the floor,
Along the wall,
Quietly, quietly
Down the hall.
Assembling goodies
To keep treaters fat
While all the time watching
For the hungry cat.

And then quietly, quietly
Down the hall,
Across the floor,
And along the wall.
Stopping to glance
Once left, twice right
Then scurrying, scurrying
Throughout the night.

ACT LIKE AN ANIMAL

Join in a circle
Round and round,
Reach to the sky,
Touch the ground.
Act like an animal
Laugh and play,
Choose an animal
And move the other way.

Now, move like the elephant
To and fro
Stepping proudly
Wherever you go.
Act like an animal
Laugh and play
Choose another animal
And move the other way.

Now, soar like the eagle
In the sky
Flap your wings
Low then high,
Act like an animal
Laugh and play
Choose another animal
And move the other way.

Now swing like the monkey
Through the tree
Swing to every branch
That you see,
Act like an animal
Laugh and play
Choose another animal
And move the other way.

Now, you pick the animal
Proud and strong
Move like that animal
And sing this song,
Act like an animal
Laugh and play,
Choose another animal
And move the other way.

COLLECTING INSECTS

Three girls on a hillside,
Sitting on a rock,
Looking so very closely
In the jars that they stock.

Collecting insects
On the side of a hill
Stopping to examine
The jars that they fill.

Big incests, little incests,
Incests that fly,
Incests of all sizes,
Some that hop by,

Red incests, black incests,
Insects that fight,
Green incests,brown incests,
Incests that bite,

Round incests, flat incests,
Incests with dots on their sides,
Shiny and dull incests,
Incests that like to hide.

Three girls on a hillside,
Sitting on a rock,
Looking so very closely
In the jars that they stock.

Collecting insects
On the side of a hill,
Stopping to examine
The jars that they fill.

FERGUSON!

Ferguson! Ferguson!
Don't eat my book!
A book's not for chewing,
It's not something you cook!

A book is for knowing,
For learning to read,
Not for licking the paper,
Not for your tummy to feed!

A book is for enjoying,
I know that is true,
But Ferguson, Ferguson,
They're not meant to chew!

RAINY DAY PIGS

Two little pigs
Playing their silly games,
Rolling in the mud,
Calling each other names.

Their fat, little stomachs
Hanging to the ground,
Splashing in the water
As they roll around.

Mud on floppy ears.
Mud between their toes.
Mud! Mud! Mud!
On each funny nose.

Two little pigs,
Laughing as they play,
Rolling in the mud
On a rainy day.

THE THANKSGIVING PIG

Ever wonder what would have happened,
How we would all feel,
If a pig had been chosen
For the first Thanksgiving meal?

If the gobbler had been more clever,
Had not been so slow,
If a pig had been roasted, ever wonder how
Thanksgiving might go?

Would classrooms be decorated
On those cool Autumn days
With pictures of porkers
And with sounds that pigs say?

Would pilgrims be drawn hunting
Following funny little tracks
As curly-tailed pigs
Hung from their backs?

Would pork chops or ham
Have become our traditional meal,
Or how might
Thanksgiving bacon and eggs make you feel?

TINY HUMMINGBIRDS

Tiny hummingbirds zooming
From here to there
Tiny hummingbirds zooming
Across the air.

Then stopping in a second
At a flower to drink
Choosing a red, a blue,
A yellow, or a pink.

Then zooming off again,
The tiny hummingbird flies,
Zooming so fast,
Almost faster than my eyes

Then stopping in a second
At a flower to drink
Choosing a red, a blue,
A yellow, or a pink.

He zooms so fast
That I am thoroughly confused
With so many different flowers,
How do tiny hummingbirds choose?

TWO BUTTERFLIES FLY

Two little butterflies
Dancing in the sky,
Higher and Higher
Two butterflies fly.

First this way then that way,
Then up and down,
Jumping and skipping,
They fly all around.

Dodging and dipping,
Across the blue sky,
I wonder what butterflies see
As butterflies fly.

BEASTIES

Many a fine meal
Was eaten here today
As thousands of beasties
Flew this way.

As they climbed and hovered
And pounced in attack
Upon my neck,
My legs, and my back.

As they bit and chewed,
And sucked and spit,
And left their marks
On each part they hit.

Oh, what fun those beasties must have had
As they buzzed and zoomed in play,
Those thousands of tiny beasties,
Who ate a free meal here today.

BONDED AT THE HEART

True friends,
Unlike bookends,
Are impossible to part.

No matter what the weight,
They never separate,
For they are bonded at the heart.

SANDRA SLAUGHTER

Sandra Slaughter
Sat in the water
Until her bottom turned pink.

But old Mrs. Slaughter
Got after her daughter
And pulled the plug from the sink.

WON'T YOU HAVE SOME

I hate cows!
They act so dumb
But I love to eat them.
Won't you have some?

They have plenty of flies
And those big runny noses.
Why, they've been around
Since the time of Moses.

They munch old grass
And they swallow old snakes.
They slobber and sneeze...
Won't you have some steaks?

Yes, I hate cows!
They act so dumb
But, I love to eat them.
Won't you have some?

WATERMELON

I love watermelon,
Yes, I do!
I can eat it all day
And the whole night through.

Squishy and squashy,
It runs down my face
While I spit seeds
All over the place.

With its rind so green,
And its pulp so red,
Sometimes I even find seeds
All over my bed.

I just can't get enough,
So, I'll take just one more bite,
But I promised my mom
That was all for the night,

But then I lose all control
And I explode with a pop!
And what use to me,
Mom now cleans...
With a mop.

A WONDROUS RIDE

I stepped on a tornado, this morning, outside,
And there, in that instant, began a wondrous ride.
I whirled and twirled through worlds and times,
As I sat by the library reading stories and rhymes.

THE KING OF THE BASS

I hooked my first fish
As it swam my way,
And we fought the fiercest of fights
That I had fought to this day,

As I pulled and I reeled,
And he tugged and he lunged,
While I countered and struggled,
He rose then he plunged.

But as he broke water a second time
And he spun high into the sky,
My line fell limp
And I began to cry.

Until my little brother
Screamed with delight
" Oh man, did you see him!
Did you see him fight!"

"It must have been him,
The famous King of the Bass!"
And I stood up straighter
As my disappointment passed.

"Yeah, I almost had him,
The noble King of the Bass!"
And while I lost a fish I gained
A memory which will last.

IN MY BED

While I'm alone
In my bed gently sleeping
Shadows and monsters
Are awake and creeping.

Sneaking all around
My bed in the night,
They bid me awake
In a terrible fright!

But I don't want to see them!
I'm afraid to look!
I know I shouldn't have read
That last scary book!

So I close my eyes tight
And pull the blankets over my head
Cause I have no wish to see
The ghosts of the dead!

So I just lay here alone
With my bed wobbling so,
But of what I'm afraid,
I'm not sure that I know!

WRITERS WRITE EVEN WHEN THEY ARE WRONG

You find yourself sitting
With nothing to say
As you edit every word before it reaches
The page that day.

Write.
Write whatever comes to your mind.
Write.
Write the words that you find.

You worry about finding the right words, the best words
And you get no words instead
So why are you surprised when just any old words
Refuse to flow from your head?

Write.
Write whatever comes to your mind.
Write.
Write the words that you find.

Learn to trust your words
For you can not polish what you do not write
Learn to trust your ideas
Before you value them wrong or right.

Write.
Write whatever comes to your mind.
Write.
Write the words that you find.

What separates writers from readers
Is the writer's lack of fear
Of the words that find the writer
Of the words that may appear.

So, write.
Write whatever comes to your mind
If you want to be a writer
Then write the first words that you find.

DREAM SWEET

Dream sweet.
Dream sweet
My little one,
But dream
With all your might.

Dream sweet.
Dream sweet
My little one
But sleep
Throughout the night.

THOUSANDS OF LITTLE PUMPKINS

Thousands of little pumpkins
In a pumpkin patch
And no two little pumpkins
Will ever exactly match.

For no two little pumpkins
Will ever be the same within.
Even though they may appear to match
In the color of their skin.

Yes, thousands of little pumpkins
Even from the same pumpkin batch
And no one can find two little pumpkins
That will ever exactly match.

And no two little pumpkins
Will ever be the same,
Even if they carry
The same last pumpkin name.

Sigmund A. Boloz

WORK IN PROGRESS

We are all works in progress
Never really complete,
Changed evermore
By each day that we meet.

We are all simple sketches
Of a more complex design,
And we are all works in progress
Being built line by line.

We are the loosely laid plans
Of our time in space,
We are part of a larger work in progress
Called the human race.

AUTUMN TIME

Evenings seem shorter.
Breezes blow cold.
A time for mittens
And warm hands to hold.

Long strolls through the orchard,
A colorful blend,
As the last ripe apples beg picking
And young saplings bend.

Rustling, warm-colored leaves
Struggle to be free,
Then settle gently upon one another
All about me.

A season of harvest,
Another Autumn day,
As thoughts of pie and cider
Flood my way.

Geese wing southward.
Scarecrows shiver in the early frost,
As I wander among brown grasses
In moments easily lost

On long strolls through the orchard,
A colorful blend,
As the last ripe apples beg picking
And young saplings bend.

A home
is a house
where you are loved,

A house
is where people
live,

So, the real difference
between
these two little words

Is
the love
that people give.

FLIES

Flies, flies, flies
Each with two wings
And those big, bulging eyes.
Buzzing around whatever I eat,
Or other smelly things
Like my big, two feet.
Flies, flies, flies,
Just one little prize
Sit there still...
SPLAT!

SO PLAIN FOR ALL TO SEE

It always starts on a Sunday with a series of low whines and begs,
And it continues on into the morning with a gentle tremble in her legs.

"I don't think I should go today.
I just don't feel very well.
I don't think I'll make it,
Past the first recess bell.
I just don't know what's wrong with me.
Something's just driving me mad.
I don't feel like school today.
This time, I'm really bad!"

Each day it is the same, as sick as she can be,
Young daughter is ailing, so plain for all to see.

"Oh, it seems to start in my stomach,
And it works it's way into my head,
But I'm sure I'll feel much better,
After another day in bed.
I feel kinda faint, you know.
There's this echo in my head!
I'm sure I'm really sick this time!
I can't understand what you've said!"

Oh, it is her stomach on Mondays, or her legs ache really bad,
And on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, it's probably something she has had.

"Mom, do we have any cough drops?
Anything for this running nose?
Oh, I do hope I'm near the restroom,
When my lunch up and goes!
I've got this problem with my ankle!
It would benefit from a rest!
And what's this spot on my arm?
Could chicken pox be next!"

By Thursdays its usually the flu, or at least a severe sore throat for sure.
But by mysterious Friday afternoons, there's always some miraculous cure.

And every day a mother's hug, a kiss, and send her on her way,
And somehow poor little daughter, will survive another day.
A prescription of sympathy, of love, a caring mother is no fool,
So plain for all to see, for poor daughter's just... allergic to school.

THE WITCH'S SNACK

Boiling,boiling,
Boiling pot.
Boiling, boiling
Nice and hot.

Green and yellow,
Purple and black,
Snakes and spiders
For my snack.

Frogs and slime,
Flies and bats,
Fish and mice
For my cat.

Boiling, boiling,
Boiling pot.
Boiling, boiling
Nice and hot.

CHRISTMAS COOKIES

Christmas is just hours away,
And it's getting awfully late.
Hurry, and bring out some milk and cookies
And place them upon Papa's plate.

For Christmas is just hours away
And before you know it he'll be here,
Driving his sparkling, spangled sleigh
With those tiny, tasseled reindeer.

And when he comes a draggin' in,
Shaking his old, tired back,
He'll probably be carrying a ponderous load,
Several mighty heavy sacks

Full of fun and fancy favors
And lots of exciting toys,
For gramps and grans and moms and dads
And for all the girls and boys.

And when he's done his work,
He may want to rest his weary feet,
To sit in front of my television for a spell
And chew on some sweet and tasty treats.

Perhaps he'll sit somewhere by the Christmas tree
Or in Papa's soft, well-used chair,
And, so he might even appreciate some milk and cookies
While he goes on relaxing there.

And next Christmas while he writes his lists
And checks notes about his long and exhausting trip,
He just might be considering some little extra things
For those who remembered his favorite chocolate chips.

So you kids just go and run along now
Cause Christmas is just hours away
And just drop the milk and cookies next to my well-worn chair
And I promise that the they will eaten before the holiday.

I'M A CITY KID

What do I know about cows?
I suspect they go, "MOO!"
And that's about it.
I'd tell you more if I knew.

But I'm a city kid.
What can I say.
I haven't met too many cows
Along the way.

Mostly it's been dogs
And pigeons and cats
A few parakeets in cages
And that's about that.

The only real cows
That I think I've ever seen
Were on the front cover
Of some nature magazine.

As far as I'm concerned,
Milk comes from a can,
Squeezed into the container
By the local grocery man.

Hey, I'm a city kid.
What can I say.
I just don't meet many cows
On the streets everyday.

ARE WE THERE YET?

Are we there yet?
How long will this take?
I've got nothing to do
And nothing to make!

This is BOOOORING!
And I'm getting mad!
I think I've done more sitting
Than anyone else has ever had.

I've been sitting so long
That my butt's starting to hurt.
And I can't open the window
Cause I might let in some dirt.

I've got no one to talk to.
Nobody wants to play.
Have I got to sit in this seat
For the rest of the day?

Are we there yet?
How many miles did we make?
How many more hours
Is this trip going to take?

Come on, take the short cut
Will you please dad,
I'm BORED to death
And I'm getting mad!

Are we there yet?
How long will this take?
I've got nothing to do
And nothing to make!

This is BOOOORING!

GOD'S LITTLEST ANGELS

When little children are in trouble
There is no reason to fear
For God's littlest angels
Are always flying near.

Whenever children have fallen
Or are having a terrible day
God's littlest angels will look over them
And take their bad thoughts away.

For the angels are always close by,
Perhaps standing by their side
Ready to hold and to protect them
Until they are satisfied

That a child is no longer in danger,
Is no longer in need
And then each littlest angel
Is once again freed

To look for other little children
Who have fallen along the way
And who have stopped for a moment
Bowed their heads to pray

So don't ever worry a little child
For the angels will be there
Whenever children are in need of comfort
Whenever they need someone to care

So if a child has fallen
Or has had a miserable day,
Tell them to call the littlest angels
To help take the bad thoughts away.

CAN I READ?

I can so read,
Just ask my dad.
He says that I'm the best four year reader
That he has ever had.

I take him to the library
Several times a week.
And I make sure that I remind him
To be quiet when we speak.

I help him check out books
That I think he might need
And I willingly turn the pages
When he wants to read.

I sit in his lap
To remind him to stay on task
And when he doesn't understand the story
I answer every question he might need to ask.

I help him predict the words
If the words start getting hard.
Then when it's time to go home,
He even borrows my library card

Can I read? That's the craziest question
That I have ever heard
I read lots of books
I just don't know all the words.

You shouldn't have asked her.
You should have listen to what your dad said
Before you asked your sister
To trim those shaggy hairs upon your head.

For she started at the front end
And headed straight up toward the back
Leaving not a single hair standing
In that one-inch-wide track

"BrrrrrrrRRRrr," groaned the electric clippers
" Ooops!" Your sister did sigh.
" What's wrong?" you asked, when your mother lamented
" Oh, you poor little guy!"

So, next time you might listen
To what your mom and dad have said,
" Clippers are not toys
When your sister puts them to your head."
Next time you might listen
Before you let your sister cut your hair
Or at least have the sense to make sure
That she doesn't start cutting there.

Or you can go ahead and wear that silly cap again
To cover up her next mistake
To hide that funny bald spot
For as long as it might take.