Funny Poems For Kids – 60 Cute & Funny Poems For Children

08:13, 15/09/2021 Funny Poems For Kids – 60 Cute & Funny Poems For Children
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Funny Poems For Kids – 60 Cute &
Funny Poems For Children
 Last update: June 26, 2021  In: Top Poems — Leave a Comment
Different from adults, children have many interesting and very beautiful views with the
world around them. Things that when we grow up, along with the chaos and fatigue of
life, we will no longer see. We teach children how to face the challenges of life, but on
the contrary, sometimes we have to learn from children how to smile.
There’s no better medicine in the world than a good laugh. So, here are the best funny
poems for kids – 60 cute & funny poems for children that we have collected. Enjoy the
funniest poems for children and cute poems about children below, hope you have
beautiful moments on OZoFe.Com! All is the best!
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Paul-Charles Chocarne-Moreau (French, 1855-1931), Au plus adroit
1, Sick © Shel Silverstein
“I cannot go to school today,”

Said little Peggy Ann McKay.

“I have the measles and the mumps,

A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,

I’m going blind in my right eye.

My tonsils are as big as rocks,

I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox

And there’s one more—that’s seventeen,

And don’t you think my face looks green?

My leg is cut—my eyes are blue—

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It might be instamatic flu.

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,

I’m sure that my left leg is broke—

My hip hurts when I move my chin,

My belly button’s caving in,

My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,

My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.

My nose is cold, my toes are numb.

I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,

I hardly whisper when I speak.

My tongue is filling up my mouth,

I think my hair is falling out.

My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,

My temperature is one-o-eight.

My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,

There is a hole inside my ear.

I have a hangnail, and my heart is—what?

What’s that? What’s that you say?

You say today is. . .Saturday?

G’bye, I’m going out to play!”
2, Snowball © Shel Silverstein
I made myself a snowball

As perfect as could be.

I thought I’d keep it as a pet

And let it sleep with me.

I made it some pajamas

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And a pillow for its head.

Then last night it ran away,

But first it wet the bed.
3, My Big Fat Cat © Christian M. Mitewu
I own a big fat cat-

The fattest for miles around.

Wherever there’s lots of food,

That’s where he’ll be found.
He’s really good at eating.

It’s a talent, I suppose.

I’m sure if he keeps at it

He’d win the talent shows.
I own a big fat cat-

He weighs at least a ton.

He couldn’t run to save his life.

Yes, he isn’t much fun.
His favourite room’s the kitchen.

(I’m sure we all know why.)

He eats just about everything,

So that’s why, with a sigh…
I’d like to tell you, Teacher,

I’d like to tell you straight,

I might have “accidentally” dropped

My homework in his plate.
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4, I’m Glad I’m Me © Phil Bolsta
I don’t understand why everyone stares

When I take off my clothes and dance down the stairs.

Or when I stick carrots in both of my ears,

Then dye my hair green and go shopping at Sears.

I just love to dress up and do goofy things.

If I were an angel, I’d tie-dye my wings!
Why can’t folks accept me the way that I am?

So what if I’m different and don’t act like them?

I’m not going to change and be someone I’m not.

I like who I am, and I’m all that I’ve got.
5, When The World Turned Upside Down ©
Margaret A. Savage
The day when the world

turned upside down:

when a frown became a smile

and a smile became a frown.
When the mice chased the cats

the cats chased the dogs.

The dogs laughed out loud

at the pink and yellow frogs.
When you went to bed in the daytime

and got up at night.

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When birds caught the school bus

and the cows took flight.
When the moon came out

in the middle of the day

and all of the ocean’s fish

rolled around in the hay.
When the children ruled the world

and ice cream was for free

and the elephants shrank

to the size of a flea.
When the grass rained lollipops

up to the sky.

When you wanted to laugh

but could only cry.
When magic beans were real

and giants very small,

you would eat spiders legs

so you could creep up the wall.
This all happened when the

world turned upside down

after I went to bed

with a smile – not a frown.
6, My Cat Knows Karate © Kenn Nesbitt
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My cat knows karate.

My frog knows kung fu.

My poodle knows judo.

My turtle does too.
They all became black belts

by watching TV;

some Chuck Norris movies,

and films with Bruce Lee.
They liked learning lessons

from Jean-Claude Van Damme,

and acting like action-film star

Jackie Chan.
They practiced their punches,

their blocks, and their kicks

until they were masters

of martial arts tricks.
You’d think they’d be good now

at guarding our house,

but, yesterday morning,

they ran from my mouse.
My mouse is a crack-up.

I laughed at his prank.

Do you think it’s weird that

my mouse drives a tank?
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7, Today The Teacher Farted © Emma Briody
Today the teacher farted.

It was an awful smell.

It was just like a rotting egg,

Straight from the depths of hell!
She tried to keep it secret

By sitting in a group.

But it was really obvious,

When she said, “Who did that poop?”
She screwed her bright, red face up

And blamed it all on Claire.

But later when I needed help,

The stench was round her chair!
She avoided my eye contact

And ticked my work in green.

But she knew that her body smells

Were foul and quite obscene.
I asked her what that smell was.

She said she’d not a clue.

I hope to God that eggy smell

Was fart and not a poo!
Today the teacher farted.

My word, what had she ate?

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I’ll always remember what she did,

And now I’m thirty eight!
8, Halfway Down © A. A. Milne
Halfway down the stairs

Is a stair

Where I sit.

There isn’t any

Other stair

Quite like

It.
I’m not at the bottom,

I’m not at the top;

So this is the stair

Where

I always

Stop.
Halfway up the stairs

Isn’t up

And it isn’t down.

It isn’t in the nursery,

It isn’t in town.

And all sorts of funny thoughts

Run round my head.

It isn’t really

Anywhere!

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It’s somewhere else

Instead!
9, The Monsters in My Closet © Phil Bolsta
The monsters in my closet

Like to sleep the day away.

So when I get home from school,

I let them out to play.
When Mom calls me for supper,

I give them each a broom.

First they put my toys away,

And then they clean my room.
The Mummy hates to vacuum.

So if he starts to whine,

I kick his rear and tell him,

“Trade jobs with Frankenstein.”
Wolfman used to fold my clothes.

I’ll give him one more chance—

Last time he wasn’t careful

And left furballs in my pants.
When my room is nice and neat,

I bring them up some food.

But Dracula wants to drink my blood—

I think that’s pretty rude.
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When it’s time to go to bed,

I hug them all goodnight.

They jump back in my closet,

While I turn out the light.
I’ve taken care of monsters

For as long as I recall,

But the monsters in my closet

Are the nicest ones of all!
10, My Next Door Neighbor Is A Witch © Samiya
Vallee
My next door neighbor is a witch,

And she lives way down in a ditch.

Her clothing is a little strange,

Because she never wants to change.

She has a black robe and a black hat,

Green skin and a smelly black cat.

A big fat wart grows on her nose,

And seventeen pimples on her toes.
But…her food is EVEN worse,

Because she eats it course by course.

Her first course is seven dead bats,

Laid on top of seven rats.

Then she has twenty flies

With lots and lots of llama eyes.

Her main course is a horrible soup,

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Because it’s made with doggie poop.

But worst of all is her dessert.

It’s little children rolled in dirt.
Last night she had a witch’s feast

And turned into a greedy beast.

I think she cooked my best friend Tilly

And ate her with some peas and broccoli.
11, Being Brave At Night © Edgar Guest
The other night ’bout two o’clock, or maybe it was three,

An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me.

His trunk was wavin’ in the air an’ spoutin’ jets of steam

An’ he was out to eat me up, but still I didn’t scream

Or let him see that I was scared – a better thought I had,

I just escaped from where I was and crawled in bed with dad.
One time there was a giant who was horrible to see,

He had three heads and twenty arms, an’ he came after me

And red hot fire came from his mouths and every hand was red

And he declared he’d grind my bones and make them into bread.

But I was just too smart for him, I fooled him might bad,

Before his hands could collar me I crawled in bed with dad.
I ain’t scared of nothin that comes pesterin’ me at night.

Once I was chased by forty ghosts all shimmery an’ white.

An’ I just raced ’em round the room an’ let ’em think maybe

I’d have to stop an’ rest awhile, when they could capture me.

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Then when they leapt onto my bed, Oh Gee! But they were mad

To find that I had slipped away an’ crawled in bed with dad.
No giants, ghosts or elephants have dared to come in there

‘Coz if they did he’d beat ’em up and chase ’em to their lair.

They just hang ’round the children’s rooms

an’ snap an’ snarl an’ bite

An’ laugh if they can make ’em yell

for help with all their might.

But I don’t ever yell out loud. I’m not that sort of lad,

I slip from out the covers and I crawl in bed with dad.
12, Messy Room © Shel Silverstein
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!

His underwear is hanging on the lamp.

His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,

And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.

His workbook is wedged in the window,

His sweater’s been thrown on the floor.

His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,

And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.

His books are all jammed in the closet,

His vest has been left in the hall.

A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,

And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!

Donald or Robert or Willie or–

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Huh? You say it’s mine? Oh, dear,

I knew it looked familiar!
13, If I Were King © A. A. Milne
I often wish I were a King,

And then I could do anything.
If only I were King of Spain,

I’d take my hat off in the rain.
If only I were King of France,

I wouldn’t brush my hair for aunts.
I think, if I were King of Greece,

I’d push things off the mantelpiece.
If I were King of Norroway,

I’d ask an elephant to stay.
If I were King of Babylon,

I’d leave my button gloves undone.
If I were King of Timbuctoo,

I’d think of lovely things to do.
If I were King of anything,

I’d tell the soldiers, “I’m the King!”
14, My Shadow © Robert Louis Stevenson
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I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,

And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest things about him is the way he likes to grow-

Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India rubber ball,

And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.

He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,

And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;

I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,

I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
15, Sneezles © A. A. Milne
Christopher Robin

Had wheezles

And sneezles,

They bundled him

Into

His bed.

They gave him what goes

With a cold in the nose,

And some more for a cold

In the head.

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They wondered

If wheezles

Could turn

Into measles,

If sneezles

Would turn

Into mumps;

They examined his chest

For a rash,

And the rest

Of his body for swellings and lumps.

They sent for some doctors

In sneezles

And wheezles

To tell them what ought

To be done.

All sorts and conditions

Of famous physicians

Came hurrying round

At a run.

They all made a note

Of the state of his throat,

They asked if he suffered from thirst;

They asked if the sneezles

Came after the wheezles,

Or if the first sneezle

Came first.
They said, “If you teazle

A sneezle

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Or wheezle,

A measle

May easily grow.

But humour or pleazle

The wheezle

Or sneezle,

The measle

Will certainly go.”

They expounded the reazles

For sneezles

And wheezles,

The manner of measles

When new.

They said “If he freezles

In draughts and in breezles,

Then PHTHEEZLES

May even ensue.”
Christopher Robin

Got up in the morning,

The sneezles had vanished away.

And the look in his eye

Seemed to say to the sky,

“Now, how to amuse them to-day?”
16, Englksh Is A Pane © Alan Balter
Hear eye sit inn English class; the likelihood is that eye won’t pass

An F on my report card wood bee worse than swallowing glass

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It’s knot that eye haven’t studied, often till late at knight

Butt the rules are sew confusing, eye simply can’t get them write
Hour teacher says, “Heed my advice, ewe must study and sacrifice”

Butt if mouses are mice and louses are lice, how come blouses aren’t blice

The confusion really abounds when adding esses two nouns

Gooses are geese, butt mooses aren’t meese; somebody scent in the clowns
Two ultimatums are ultimata, and a couple of datum are data

Sew wouldn’t ewe expect it wood bee correct fore a bunch of plums to be plata?

And if more than won octopus are octopi, and the plural of ox is oxen

Shouldn’t a couple of busses bee bussi and a pare of foxes bee foxen?
Let’s talk about spelling a wile, specifically letters witch are silent

Words like “psychologist” and “wreck” shirley make awl of us violent

And another example quite plane witch is really hard two explain

If it’s eye before e except after sea, then what about feign and reign?
The final exam will determine how eye due, weather eye pass ore fail

I halve prepared as much as eye can down two the last detail

I’m ready two give it my vary best inn just a little wile

And then isle take a relaxing wrest on a tropical aisle
17, Michael O’Toole © Phil Bolsta
Michael O’Toole hated going to school,

He wanted to stay home and play.

So lied to his dad and said he felt bad

And stayed home from school one day.
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The very next day he decided to say

That his stomach felt a bit queasy.

He groaned and he winced ’til his dad was convinced,

And he said to himself, “This is easy!”
At the end of the week, his dad kissed his cheek

And said, “Son, you’ve missed too much school.”

“But still I feel funny, and my nose is all runny,”

Said the mischievous Michael O’Toole.
Each day he’d complain of a new ache or pain,

But his doctor could find nothing wrong.

He said it was best to let Michael rest,

Until he felt healthy and strong.
Michael O’Toole never did get to school,

So he never learned how to write—

Or to read or to spell or do anything well,

Which is sad, for he’s really quite bright.
And now that he’s grown, he sits home alone

’Cause there’s nothing he knows how to do.

Don’t be a fool and stay home from school,

Or the same thing could happen to you!
18, The Boy Who Didn’t Like Ice Cream ©
Rebecca Syx
A boy who didn’t like ice cream?

That almost seems like a crime!

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This is the story of Logan

And about trying foods more than one time.
Logan did not enjoy ice cream.

He thought it was too cold.

Too cold on his tongue, too cold on his teeth,

Too cold right down to his toes.
No one could believe it.

“Just try one bite!” they’d say.

He’d shake his head. “No, thank you,” he’d say.

“Maybe some other day.”
At parties, the zoo, at the beach,

Ice cream was everywhere,

But as everyone enjoyed the nice cold treat.

Logan preferred gummy bears.
One time Logan did try ice cream.

Took a big bite, his eyes squeezed.

As the ice cream melted in his mouth

He got a huge brain freeze!
“Never again!” Logan said!

“Eating ice cream is no fun!

I cannot freeze my brain again;

I’ve got only this one!”
No one was as upset

As one man, that is for sure.

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It was Logan’s Pop Pop,

The great ice cream connoisseur.
“Please, Logan!” Pop begged.

“Please try it one more time!

Just try a small bite,” Pop said.

“Your brain will be just fine.”
Logan gulped, his eye squinted tight.

Pop Pop was NEVER wrong.

Maybe just one more try won’t really hurt.

He decided to be strong.
“Little bites are the trick,”

Pop Pop winked and said.

“That way the cold goes to your tummy

Instead of to your head.”
So Logan scooped a tiny bite of

Homemade vanilla cream.

He squeezed his eyes, stuck out his tongue

And then let out a scream!
“I LIKE IT!” Logan yelled,

And Pop Pop laughed.

“I knew you would, my boy!”

They laughed and both enjoyed tummies full of ice cream joy.
So what did you learn from Logan?

Remember this little rhyme!

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Trying new things doesn’t hurt!

And try them more than one time!
19, I Dreamed That I Was Flying © Kenn Nesbitt
I dreamed that I was in my room

when much to my surprise,

I found that if I flapped my arms

it made me start to rise.
I waved my arms a little more

and floated off the ground,

I rose up to the ceiling

and I had a look around.
I flapped around my bedroom

then decided what I’d do:

I opened up my window,

waved my arms, and out I flew!
I flew around the city

with surprising grace and ease.

I sailed along the rooftops

and I soared among the trees.
I chased a pair of pigeons

’round the playground in the park.

I raced beside a robin

and cavorted with a lark.
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And when I tired of flying

and decided I should rest,

I joined a sleeping eagle

for a nap inside his nest.
I woke confused this morning,

and I had to scratch my head,

for underneath my covers

I found feathers in my bed.
20, Little Boy Blue © Darren Sardelli
Please cover your nose.

You sneezed on Miss Muffet

and ruined her clothes.

You sprayed Mother Hubbard

and now she is sick.

You put out the fire

on Jack’s candle stick.

Your sneeze is the reason

why Humpty fell down.

You drenched Yankee Doodle

when he came to town.

The blind mice are angry!

The sheep are upset!

From now on, use a tissue

so no one gets wet!
21, Candy Tree Shops © Beryl L Edmonds
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If ice cream could be grown on the tree top,

Tiny tummies would be liking it lots.

Any fruit flavour

For all to savour.

Do stop by at the ice cream tree shop.
If only the trees could grow lollipops

With a sharp tangy taste of lemon drops.

Lolly licky-lick
With a zingy twist.

Come along with a skip and a hop.
If chocolate heaven grew on tree leaf,

Bountiful, tempting, delicious to eat,

A smooth, silky, treat

In a chocy feast.

If only they weren’t so out of reach.
If bubblegum grew upon trees that blew

Bubbles in the air, to catch and to chew.

Be nimble, be quick;

Remember the trick.

Don’t swallow, because gum sticks like glue.
All are welcome at the Candy Tree Shops.

Feast your eyes on all the goodies they’ve got.

There are enough treats

For all down the streets,

So come and join the jiggery-jog
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22, The Owl And The Pussy-Cat © Edward Lear
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea

In a beautiful pea-green boat,

They took some honey, and plenty of money,

Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

And sang to a small guitar,

“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,

What a beautiful Pussy you are,

You are,

You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!”
Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!

How charmingly sweet you sing!

O let us be married! too long we have tarried:

But what shall we do for a ring?”

They sailed away, for a year and a day,

To the land where the Bong-Tree grows

And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood

With a ring at the end of his nose,

His nose,

His nose,

With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”

So they took it away, and were married next day

By the Turkey who lives on the hill.

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They dined on mince, and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,

They danced by the light of the moon,

The moon,

The moon,

They danced by the light of the moon.
23, Who Am I? © Chazz
Who am I?

I am a surprise

I don’t have eyes

I’m wrapped in plastic

I am fantastic

I could be red

But I’m not dead

I could be blue

Bluer than you

I could be pink

But I don’t think

Make up your mind

I’m not hard to find

You could find me in a Milk Bar

Or eat me in the car

I do not walk

I do not talk

But most of all I don’t taste like pork

I am not shy

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I do not cry

I will never let out a wimpy sigh

I find myself covered in spit

Then fall into a bottomless pit

Serena Williams likes my taste

But doesn’t like tomato paste

Do not be scared of me

All I want to be is free

I am very nice

I don’t taste like rice

You can’t cut me into a slice

I’m filled with sugar

But don’t think I’m a booger

Do not fear

I don’t taste like beer

But when I’m around everyone will cheer

People will stop

When they see me in the shop

You’ll buy me five times over

Like I’m a four leaf clover

People say I rock

But I don’t smell like a sock

You might say I’m food

But I’m never in a bad mood

I might ask Sam

Who I am

He might say “What?”

And tell me who I’m not.
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24, My Shadow © Peter R Wolveridge
I quite often look at my shadow,

I like how it follows me round

And does all the same things that I do

Without ever making a sound.
It hides when the weather is cloudy.

But I know it’s always quite near,

For later, as soon as the sun shines,

My shadow is bound to appear.
I’ve noticed sometimes in the evening,

While watching the sun going down,

My shadow gets all tired and lazy

And stretches right out on the ground.
But then when it comes to my bedtime,

I lie down and switch off the light.

My eyes close, I can’t help but wonder

Where shadows like mine go at night?
Perhaps it meets with other shadows,

Sits down and tells them about me,

The silly things that I’ve been doing

And hears its friends laughing with glee.
But when I awake in the morning

I’m always delighted to see,

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As soon as I draw back the curtains,

My shadow’s there waiting for me.
25, Morning Prayer © Ogden Nash
Now another day is breaking,

Sleep was sweet and so is waking.

Dear Lord, I promised you last night

Never again to sulk or fight.

Such vows are easier to keep

When a child is sound asleep.

Today, O Lord, for your dear sake,

I’ll try to keep them when awake.
26, My Dog Does My Homework © Kenn Nesbitt
My dog does my homework

at home every night.

He answers each question

and gets them all right.

There’s only one problem

with homework by Rover.

I can’t turn

in work
That’s been slobbered all over
27, Grandad Can’t See His Feet © Graham
Craven
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Granddad’s got new glasses,

But he still can’t see his feet.

No, his eyes are not the problem.

It’s the amount of food he eats.
People often stop and ask,

“Is his belly real,

Or did he eat a basketball

With last night’s evening meal?”
One day he’ll surely pop

And Gran will go berserk. She’ll say,

“See what you’ve done, you greedy old fool,

Making me more work.”
Granddad will simply laugh and say,

“Now look, my turtle dove,

If I keep getting bigger,

There’ll be more of me to love.”
He calls himself the perfect man,

“Every Grandma’s dream,”

Then a smirk spreads across his face

Like the cat that got the cream.
Granddad may be extra large,

But he’s a sweet and lovely guy,

The heavyweight champion of the world,

And the toffee apple of my eye.
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28, Summer Camp Souvenirs © Richard Thomas
When I got home from camp today,

My parents almost died.

They asked me how I got this way,

And here’s what I replied:
This little cast from heel to hip

Is nothing much at all.

Some broken shingles made me slip

From off the dining hall.
The poison ivy’s not too bad.

It missed my back and chest.

Of course, I guess I oughta add

Mosquitoes got the rest.
I tried to eat some hick’ry nuts

And cracked a tooth or two.

And all these bruises, scabs, and cuts?

I haven’t got a clue.
I got the lump that’s on my head

From diving in the lake.

I should’ve watched for rocks instead

Of grabbing for the snake.
That leaves this bandage on my chin

And these three finger sprains,

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Along with lots of sunburned skin

And sniffles from the rains.
I also got a muscle cramp

And very nearly drowned.

It’s some terrific summer camp,

The coolest one around.
29, Sleepy © Abimbola T. Alabi
There is this funny guy I know.

Sleepy by name and sneaky as can be.

I never know where he comes from,

Only that he creeps up on me.
He is very cunning, you see.

He often makes me feel like a fool.

He jerks my head or slurs my speech,

And he sometimes makes me drool.
He can put things in a swirl

So I can’t tell which is which.

And the stuff I don’t want to let go,

He easily takes out of my reach.
Still, a generous guest is he,

Always comes with a soothing balm,

To lull my body and renew my strength

And make my mind to be calm.
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When he leaves and where he goes,

That is hard for me to say.

But as rude as he is, I’m always glad

For Sleepy’s sly visit every day.
30, Sweet Treat Dream © Gillian M. Ward
If my world were made of chocolate,

I know what I would do.

I’d make a chocolate mountain

And share it all with you.
We’d eat our way up to the top

Until we’d eaten every drop.

Then chocolate clouds and chocolate rain

Would float us back to Earth again.
Chocolate fields and chocolate trees,

Chocolate rivers and chocolate seas,

Chocolate people and chocolate cars,

And houses made of chocolate bars.
Chocolate coats and chocolate hats,

Chocolate dogs and chocolate cats,

Chocolate castles. Oh, what a dream.

I would be known as the Chocolate Queen.
But there’s one thing that would never do,

And I know for sure that this is true.

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An end would be put to all our fun

If our world had a chocolate sun!
31, Yucky Chucky Tucker © Kathy J Parenteau
Yucky Chucky Tucker was smelly as can be,

he never took a bath and hardly ever brushed his teeth.

Everywhere he went he left an odor in the air,

and Yucky Chucky Tucker never combed his hair.

His hands were always dirty cause he played with stinky worms,

he never cared if he got sick, he wasn’t afraid of germs.

He didn’t have a lot of friends except for one or two,

till Yucky Chucky Tucker met little Linda Sue.

Linda was quite pretty, an awesome sight to admire

and Yucky Chucky Tucker would give anything to sit by her.

But he’d have to make some changes and what I mean by that,

Yucky Chucky Tucker would have to take a bath.

He’d have to wash his hands and scrub his dirty face,

and to clean his stained up yellow teeth would take a tube of paste.

He’d have to wash his hair at least a dozen times,

to remove the terrible build up of sticky greasy grime.

Then Yucky Chucky Tucker would have to change his clothes,

sprinkle on cologne and find a bright red rose.

And maybe if he’s lucky little Linda Sue,

might take another look at him and think he’s really cute.

Funny how a pretty girl can change the way you think,

cause even Yucky Chucky Tucker washed away his stink,

All to catch the eye of little Linda Sue,

besides, her daddy owned a toy store, now what’s a boy to do?
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32, Fishy Fishy © Charles Murdock
Fishy, fishy, munch, munch, munch.

Eats his food with a big crunch!

Fishy, fishy swimming by

He just looked! Maybe saying, “Hi.”

Fishy, fishy swimming around,

The mayor of his own little town.

Fishy, fishy, yummy, yummy
Now…he is in my tummy.
33, Good Morning, Dear Students © Kenn Nesbitt
“Good morning, dear students,” the principal said.

“Please put down your pencils and go back to bed.

Today we will spend the day playing outside,

then take the whole school on a carnival ride.
“We’ll learn to eat candy while watching TV,

then listen to records and swing from a tree.

We’ll also be learning to draw on the walls,

to scream in the classrooms and run in the halls.
“So bring in your skateboard, your scooter, your bike.

It’s time to be different and do what you like.

The teachers are going to give you a rest.

You don’t have to study. There won’t be a test.
“And if you’d prefer, for a bit of a change,

feel free to go wild and act really strange.

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Go put on a clown suit and dye your hair green,

and copy your face on the Xerox machine.
“Tomorrow it’s back to the regular grind.

Today, just go crazy. We really don’t mind.

So tear up your homework. We’ll give you an A.

Oh wait. I’m just kidding. It’s April Fools’ Day.”
34, My Kitty © Debra L. Brown
I once had a kitty

who had stripes in her fur.

I could pet her and brush her,

and boy could she purr.
She was a mighty hunter,

and she was not shy.

She’d seek out the bugs,

especially the flies.
Oh, you mischievous little kitty,

with your face in the can.

That fly you are chasing

is now on the stand.
That nasty old bug

thinks he’s smart and witty.

But he’s never tangled

with my little kitty.
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He thinks he’s outsmart her,

that clever old bug.

She’ll curl up and wait there

on that big fluffy rug.
My clever little kitty,

oh no, she’s no dope.

She’ll sit back and wait.

She’ll show him the ropes.
She curled up and waited,

like a clever old spy.

Then she jumped up

and pounced on that taunting old fly.
So the moral of the story,

if you are a fly,

don’t mess with my kitty,

or you will soon die.
35, Who Nose? © Alan Balter
Some are as long as hoses

You buy at a garden store.

Mine can be used to smell roses

From a couple of miles or more.
In case you haven’t guessed it,

It’s noses I’m talking about here,

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And although I’ve never expressed it

As for mine, it’s unique, I fear.
On a night that’s humid and warm

You’d be impressed I’d bet.

Stand under my nose in a thunderstorm.

Chances are you won’t get wet.
Yesterday I had someone to meet.

The cab drive was the worst.

The driver dropped me at Eighth Street.

But my nose went on ’til First.
Then a jet plane we boarded

Me and my nose, it was neat.

I really couldn’t afford it

‘Cause we needed an extra seat.
For handkerchiefs, it’s really rough.

It’s hard to know what to do.

A small white cloth isn’t enough,

So I use a bedsheet or two.
Perhaps I shouldn’t be complaining.

Who knows where things went wrong?

Certainly I should be abstaining

From sticking it where it doesn’t belong
36, I Simply Can’t Rhyme! © Amaab
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I can’t write a poem; I simply can’t!

I can’t sing, rhyme, nor chant,

All my words are fumbled.

Last time I read something I mumbled.

I can’t write a poem, I simply can’t!

Every time I try I begin to rant,

I will refuse and whine,

You see, I simply can’t rhyme!
My poems are downright bad!

You see, my dear lad,

A slug can rhyme better than me!

Read my poem and you will snicker with glee.

You’ll laugh and point and say,

You’re no poet, no way!

Then you’ll agree,

For my poems, I’ll earn a negative degree,
They’re awful, terrible, hideous and lousy!

Shocking, dreadful, and frowzy!

Merely reading them will make you faint and drowsy.

You’ll say, go away!

I’d rather eat a mouthful of hay!
You were right, you can’t write a poem, you simply can’t!

I’ll reply, I told you I can’t sing, rhyme, nor chant.

A beast of a poem I created; look at what I did!

Me, a poet? What a fib!
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37, A Tragic Bean Story © Amy
You told me not to fart mom,

so I didn’t eat the beans.

You told me it would smell mom,

So I knew it would be mean

Everyone ate the brown beans mom,

But I ate mashed potatoes instead.

A person who ate the brown beans farted mom

and it smelt really bad.

People pointed fingers at me mom,

and my face turned really red.

I told them it wasn’t me mom

but they didn’t believe what I said.

My friends don’t like me anymore mom.

They say I’m a liar.

As for the brown beans mom

I will never be a buyer!
38, Santa’s Stuck In Traffic © Clara Gray
Santa’s stuck in traffic,

He’ll be late this year.

But that’s not so horrific,

He’s still got his reindeer.

Still put out your biscuits,

You might have to wait ’til May,

But Santa’s definitely coming,

Hip, hip, hip hooray!
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39, A Day Out To Remember © Samantha G.
Faulkner
Today we’re going to the zoo.

I’m psyched, I’m zinged, I’m Scooby Doo.

My shoes are on, my scarf, my hat.

I’m bouncing like an acrobat.

Come on Mum, come on Dad.

We’ll get there late if traffic’s bad.

We’re on the road; it won’t be long.

Mum says an hour; she must be wrong.

Right now to queue, which one? I’ll pick it.

I’m desperate now to get that ticket.

Through the turnstile, up the slope,

And face to face with antelope!

The keeper leads along the path,

Which draws my gaze to a huge giraffe!

Whilst licking food from round its face

It locks its neck with a suitcase.

No wait, no case; why, that’s a trunk,

But elephant poo’s not what I stunk.

It comes from there – the mud and bog.

I spot the snout of one warthog

With bristly ears and curly tail

Snuffling food from a big green pail

Mum declares, “It’s monkey time!

Let’s snap them whilst they swing and climb.”

Two small ones crouch besides the bars,

Bananas clutched like fat cigars.

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Mum reads the guide and then she squeals.

“Let’s buy some fish to feed the seals.

12 o’clock is feeding time.

Then they perform in pantomime.”

I thought the zoo filled kids with glee,

But mum it seems is worse than me.

Dad likes the zoo but isn’t fond

Of bags and coats so he plods along.

He likes the noise and even stench

But longs to find a comfy bench.

His luck is in; we find a seat

To root through what we’ve brought to eat.

Foil wrapped rolls and cans of pop,

Some chocolate from the local shop.

“Stop for breath; you’re going to choke!”

“Come on Dad, there’s lions to stroke.”

“Love, listen close, and please stay calm.

If you stroke them they’ll take your arm!”

“Okay Dad, if that’s the case,

Instead I’ll kiss a gator’s face.”

Mum takes the lead of all of us.

She wants to see the rhinoceros.

She lures me with a red balloon

Reminding me of one baboon

That pressed the glassed and firstly posed

And then turned round, his butt exposed.

But then it comes as no surprise

They don’t make trousers in his size.

It’s 5 o’clock and time for home.

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I’m sad but tired so will not moan.

There are no gorillas back at mine,

But Gran smells close, so I’ll be fine.
40, Pay Attention To Me © Tiffany N. Hensley
Buzz, buzz in your ear,

A bumble bee follows you everywhere.

I am that bee, can’t you see?

I’ll sting you if you don’t watch me closely.

Not to hurt you,

Just to let you know I was there.

Buzz, buzz let me see you notice me.

I only do the things I do for attention from you.

I love you,

I hope you still love me too.
41, Night Noises © Alan Balter
My parents’ bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder

What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.

We don’t live near the seashore, but almost every morn

I’m wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.
It’s louder than the sound of barking dogs at night

Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.

A chainsaw cutting logs doesn’t make as much din,

Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.
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A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,

As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.

But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad’s bedroom,

Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!
At last I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.

It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring

Mom says: “I don’t mind; it’s really a Godsend

That all that wind isn’t coming out the other end.”
42, Little Princess © Farah Umairah
There was a little princess,

Who lived in a kingdom.

She had so many maids,

That she had no freedom.
She took them shopping,

Right next to a town,

And traded them,

For a new princess gown.
43, Halloween © Marlena
Halloween is very fun,

full of kids with different tongues.

We scream, we shout,

then we run all about.

We trick-or-treat,

we walk on the street.
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Watching witches mixing lotions,

Making weird smelly potions.

Saying “Bubble, brew, boil, simmer

You’ll soon be my dinner.”

Dracula spreads his wings,

And flashes his teeth as bling.

His mother calls “Come back here son!”

While he ducks the sun.

Ghosts love to mourn and dread,

Even though they’re already dead.

They always drift,

And ask if you want a lift.

Athletes are so strong,

Their arms & legs are very long.

They drink their tea without honey,

And enjoy spending all their money.
Halloween is very fun,

full of kids with different tongues.

We scream, we shout,

then we run all about.

We trick-or-treat,

we walk on the street.

Then we go to sleep,

Maybe even counting sheep.
44, The Centipede © May Fenn 
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I’m glad I’m not a real boy

With proper feet like you.

Imagine if I had to put

A foot in every shoe.

For when I’d got each foot inside

And every lace tied tight,

I’d have to take them off again

To go to bed at night.
45, Freddie © Phil Bolsta
I don’t like doing homework,

I know that it will bore me.

But now I am much happier

‘Cause Freddie does it for me!
He greets me at the door each day

When I come home from school.

He just can’t wait to read my books—

I think that’s pretty cool!
I give him all my homework,

Like history and math.

And when he’s done I give him

A nice warm bubble bath!
My grades are so much better now,

Which makes my parents glad.

Freddie is the smartest dog

That I have ever had!
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46, Ode To Socks © Gemma Whannell
You saved me from some Bad Blistering Blisters.

You let me know when you need a bath.

I wear you to church because you’re very “holy.”

You help me slide on the kitchen floor as I go Whoosh!

When I see my toe, you say it’s time to throw.

I like that you come in a lot of weird, wild colors.

You are tall and short, large and small.

My shoe has always been attracted to you because it keeps you super snug,

But when it comes to P.E., that’s when you’re not too fond of me.

I’d like to put you in a wool knit Ugg so my toes will be extra warm.

You’re always under a twined twisted tongue,

But when I pull you out of my sweaty shoe you scream “Pew!”

You make sure my piggy wiggies are warm.

When I’m bored, you are my puppet,

And once you’re done you become my spunky monkey sock monkey.
47, The Pickle © Kyle Wong
There once was a pickle in a jar

His dreams were very far.

He got promoted to a can

And then to a pan

And on the plate he ran.
48, Cow In My Soup © Kevin T. Pearson
My mom said, “Eat all your soup,

every piece of chicken and every noodle.”

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But there’s a cow in my soup.
I need to get him out of there.

I don’t know if he can swim.

How he got there, I’m not aware.
My mom says, “Stop slurping your soup,”

every time he starts to moo.

Heck, I’m just hoping he doesn’t poop
He keeps splashing me with his tail.

My mom says, “You’re making a mess.”

She must have gotten this soup on sale.
I give up; it’s no use.

My mom says, “For dessert,

We’re having chocolate mousse.”
49, Granddad’s Got Hair © Graham Craven
Granddad’s got hair on his fingers,

Hair on his toes,

Hair in his ears,

Hair up his nose.

His chest has got more hair than a course front door mat.

His back has got more hair than next door’s tom cat.
Granddad’s head is silky and smooth,

Not a solitary bristle.

Smooth as a baby’s bum,

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Clean as a whistle.

Some say a snooker ball has got more hair,

But his beard hides a smile that says, “I just don’t care.”
50, The Thing! © Brian A. Bendall
I once set out to make a fiend,

A gruesome thing that no one’s seen.

A massive gore of teeth and claws

With sixteen eyes and monster paws.
Before I started out to cook,

I checked out first my Potions Book.

With some touches of my own,

I knew I’d hear my monster moan.
I finally found the perfect pot,

Huge and black and rusted not,

To place it on a fire bright

And waited for the dark of night.
The darkness came, none too soon,

And in the shining of the moon,

I began my task with hopes to fix

The makings for my monster mix.
I filled the pot half-full with grease,

And so began my monster-piece.

I added pints of castor oil

And waited for my mix to boil.
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I put in five potato eyes,

A chicken’s tooth and watched it rise.

A lock of hair, a roach, a worm!

I stirred it so it would not burn!
Beetle guts, hornet’s feet,

Finger nails, rancid meat,

A turtle’s toes, a garter snake!

So far, this was a piece of cake!
Then I put in weasel liver,

A centipede, a caterpillar,

Seven hairs from top a fly,

A horse’s tongue, a lizard’s eye!
Oxen hooves and turkey neck,

A gremlin’s ear (just a speck),

Maggot slime, a walrus knuckle.

It smelled so good, I had to chuckle!
I listened to it curl and tip.

I took a spoon and had a sip!

And as I heard it bump and crunch,

I settled back to have my lunch.
I put the lid on good and tight.

I let it simmer all that night.

And all that day I let it brew.

All next night and the next day, too.
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Then, that night, the moment came

To see if I had worked in vain.

I pried the lid with tender care,

Wondering what I’d find in there.
I held my breath, peeked inside.

I saw it…and I burst with pride!

I threw the lid aside, at last,

And danced around the pot of gas!
And through the gas the creature rose,

With sixteen eyes, a big black nose,

Fangs, hair and ten inch claws,

Warts, lice and monster paws!
It groaned! It gasped! It grunted, too!

Just why it lived, I wish I knew!

“It must be luck! A chance! A fluke!”

I chose a name and called it, “Duke”!
“Here, Duke!” I called, with outstretched hand.

Did it really understand?

It did! It did! For Duke complied!

It looked so good, I almost cried!
With happy eyes I watched it slip,

Squirm, slide, slither and dip.

Slow, at first, then like a shot,

Duke turned around….and ate the pot!
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It ate the table and the chair,

And my book a laying there!

Then it ate my frying pans,

My overcoat and garbage cans.
My couch, my lamps, my stove, my suit!

I have to say, it did look cute.

But was this the monster in my mind?

Did I create a Frankenstein?!
My telephone and TV set,

But Duke? It wasn’t finished yet!

My shower, toilet, tub and sink!

My sanity was at the brink!
Then Duke stopped, to my surprise,

And looked at me with thankful eyes.

I never dreamed it’d be so wild!

Duke cocked its head….and then it smiled.
Today, it’s eaten all I own!

I barely even have a home!

So, I’m worried by one thing, you see,

It’s that one day … Duke … might … eat…

…”AARRGGHH!”
51, April Fool’s Day © Kenn Nesbitt
Mackenzie put a whoopie cushion

on the teacher’s chair.

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Makayla told the teacher

that a bug was in her hair.
Alyssa brought an apple

with a purple gummy worm

and gave it to the teacher

just to see if she would squirm.
Elijah left a piece of plastic

dog doo on the floor,

and Vincent put some plastic vomit

in the teacher’s drawer.
Amanda put a goldfish

in the teacher’s drinking glass.

These April Fool’s Day pranks

are ones that you could use in class.
Before you go and try them, though,

there’s something I should mention:

The teacher wasn’t fooling

when she put us in detention.
52, A Noble Quest © Samantha G. Faulkner
You go to your back garden, as you want something to do,

And a world of wild adventure is staring back at you.

It’s not a place that mum and dad know sits behind your home,

But you see things they can’t see if you’re prepared to comb.

Beneath the big hydrangea bush are mysteries to spy,

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Where ogres live and will appear, but slowly ’cause they’re shy.

To travel to this mystic land or venture even farther,

You need to cross the vast green lawn that is now made of lava.

But if you hop from stone to stone and say the magic words,

You’ve learned by cracking clues and rhymes left for you by the birds,

You’ll get across securely, and even in one piece,

But if you mix your words, jump fast so you’ll avoid the beast

That lurks amongst the flowerbeds and sneaks from pot to pot,

But don’t step on the lawn ’cause as you know, it’s boiling hot.

So now you’ve reached the brambles, all twisted thorns and vines

That come to life and grab your legs, so watch out for the signs,

As they know when no one’s watching you to see you disappear

And take you to a place that even ghosts and dragons fear,

But you are not a dragon, and you’re certainly not a ghost.

You’re brave, you’re strong, you’re fearless and more intelligent that most.

You’ve got your wits about you, and more important than that,

You’ve brought you brand new spud gun and your lucky cowboy hat.

So now onto the castle where the captured princess waits,

Guarded by the boglins made of stone beside the gates.

You first must climb the rope ladder and hope it doesn’t break,

Or worse, as you recall, it once transformed into a snake.

You peek in through the doorway, being quiet as a mouse.

You see a stunning castle, not a dusty old treehouse.

A ‘pop’ ‘pop’ of your gun and the guards run off in fear.

The worst thing for a goblin is potato in their ear.

And now to save the princess, that was once your sister’s doll,

But since you flushed that down the toilet, it’s now Bert, her purple troll.

But Bert is still a princess and needs saving all the same,

And protected past the duck pond full of crocodiles to tame.

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You can tell that they are peckish and bribe them with a snack,

Which wins their trust and earns you both a ride upon their back ,

Which really comes in handy as the pond also contains

Snapping pink piranhas keen to gobble up your brains.

But fish with teeth don’t scare you as you jump down from the pond.

You’re as brave as Indiana and as daring as James Bond.

With Bert inside your backpack, you head back to the lawn,

With you trainers thick with mud and your trousers slightly torn.

But if you’re required to save the world, mum should count herself as lucky

That the only cost to her sometimes is clothes that come back mucky.

As you stride across the patio, your mission now complete

You’re through the door, your head held high, but still must wipe your feet

‘Cause while giants do not scare you, even roaring, “Fee Fi Fum,”

Nothing’s quite as frightening as a telling off from mum.
53, The Sugar-Plum Tree © Eugene Field
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

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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.
54, Boisterous Joe! © Edel T. Copeland
There was a boisterous boy called Joe

Who loved to play in the fresh falling snow.

He went sledging one day

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On his wild husky powered sleigh,

Tumbled tumultuously and broke his big toe.
55, Ah! To Bear The Salty Air! © Brian A. Bendall
I planned to leave, one fateful day,

Upon a burly craft.

I told my friends, “I’ll sail the seas!”

But all of them just laughed!
I’ll show them what a sailor is,

I had a sturdy boat!

So, I packed a bag with lots of socks,

My cap and warmest coat.
Fresh underwear and extra jeans,

Some shirts and turtleneck.

I had, for sure, a first-aid kit

If injured on my trek.
A toothbrush, soap and bushy towel,

Some dental floss and comb.

A sextant and a navy map

So I could get back home!
A lantern, so to see at night,

And oars to paddle ’round,

Because my sails would fail to bloom

When winds had settled down.
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A box load of my favorite books

To read when nights are long.

A guitar I’d always kept in tune

That I might sing a song.
At bow and stern a cannon sat

To fight the pirates off,

And just in case, I made some space

For cough-drops for my cough.
An anchor and a fishing rod,

Harpoons and safety pins.

Bubble gum and rifles, too,

In case a war begins.
I read about the dangers there,

Sharks could be unpleasant!

With that in mind, I brought along

A vat of shark repellant!
Ropes and cans of chicken soup,

Some candies and some mints.

Some rubber boots and tweezers, too,

To pick out navel lints.
Toilet paper soft and white,

All double rolls aplenty.

Leather gloves and cannon balls,

Of those, I counted twenty.
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A garbage can and trusty mop

To keep the deck all spotless.

I purchased twenty pounds of salt,

But perhaps I should have bought less.
My laptop and my TV set,

A heavy length of chain.

A manual on how to swim,

And a tarp if it should rain.
Lots of fruit and pork and beans,

My blankets and my bunk.

But, just as I stepped ‘board the boat…

…The ding dang dinghy sunk!
So, lesson learned, I say to you,

If you decide to roam,

Take, indeed, just what you need

…And leave the rest at home!
56, Blowing All The Way Home © Marie Tully
Spiders’ legs arrive from mars

Sitting in liquid jars

Bulging eyes mixed with black eyed peas

Surrounded in green squid cheese

Silver fish baked in a pie

Oh, what a beautiful life have I

Bloated blood clots slimley slip

Past your tonsils way too quick

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Octopus ink I love to drink

Mixed with ice-cubed eyeballs

Clackety clink

Red ants, slugs, brains and tails

Slightly grilled moths and snails

Waiter! Waiter! I must protest

My maggoty worms were not served in a nest

With belly full my leave I take

Farting and belching make no mistake
57, I Hate Brussels Sprouts! © Cynthia C.
Naspinski
I know that stink! I have no doubts

That Mom has cooked up Brussels sprouts.

Of all the things that I despise,

The Brussels sprout would take first prize.
I’ve blocked my nose and tried to swallow,

Guzzled lots of milk to follow,

But I can tell you nothing works

‘Cause in my mouth the taste still lurks.
Once I slipped one in my pocket,

But after dinner I forgot it.

Next day I shoved my hand in there

And gave myself a nasty scare.
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In Mom’s pot plant I used to hide

A sprout or two, but then IT DIED!

And now my sister’s learned to count.

I can’t add to her sprout amount.
My dog won’t even help me out.

He will not eat a Brussels sprout.

He’ll lick his butt, eat possum poop,

But to eat sprouts he will not stoop.
Maybe it is just as well

Because his farts already smell.

He does not need a Brussels sprout

To turbocharge what’s coming out!
Please Mom, can we work out a deal

That gets me out of this here meal?

I’d clear the table, do the dishes,

Be your genie, grant you wishes.
I’d clean my room a little later

And feed the dog (that little traitor!).

I’d pull weeds till my hands blister.

I’d even play nice with my sister.
But Mom, it would be best all around

If other veggies could be found,

So we could all just go without

The gross, revolting Brussels sprout!
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58, Reflection © May Fenn
I’ve heard mum say, and often too,

That washing up’s a bore.

Why she’d often give me tuppence

Just to do that dreadful chore.

But me, I rather like it

With my elbows in the sink,

Stirring up the bubbles

As I have a little think.

And when I start to wash them,

Why the dishes fade away

And in their place a special friend

Comes to visit me each day.

There’s a genie in the saucepan,

And when I make the bottom shine

He shows his great big smiling face,

(It looks a bit like mine).

He likes it when I talk to him,

Yet though it seems absurd.

Although I see him answer me,

I just can’t hear a word!

I see his lips are mouthing words,

But though I strain my ears,

I’ve never yet heard what he’s said

Whenever he appears.

Still I’m sure if Mum could see him

That she’d never say again

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That washing up’s a dreadful bore

And drives her quite insane.
59, My Brother Can Eat © Ray S. Gordon Jr
My brother can eat.

Hide your fruits,

Hide your snacks,

Hide all your treats.
It doesn’t matter what it is.

Y’all don’t understand.

The boy can eat.

Call him munchie man.
Rice and chicken,

Mac and cheese.

He’s always in the kitchen

Saying, “More, please.”
Just the other day,

He ate all Daddy’s steak.

Just the other day,

He had three plates.
I guarantee if you see him, he will ask,

“What are we going to eat?”

I love my brother lots,

But the boy sure can eat.
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60, Musings Of A Three-Year-Old © Nida Mathew
How tiring it is

To be three years old.

Sit here, eat that,

Be constantly told.
I would like to stomp

My feet when I’m mad,

Watch Peppa Pig all day.

Is that so bad?
Once in a while

I want to stand on the table,

Fling a few things around.

That’s not unreasonable.
Instructions, instructions,

Everything is forbidden.

All the fancy breakable things

From me remain hidden.
I have many a plan

For when I grow up.

First and most importantly,

Till late I’ll stay up.
I’ll go around in circles

Until I’m nice and dizzy,

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Sprint up and down the house,

Send everyone in a tizzy.
I’ll eat all the chocolate

I can find around the house.

Next, I’ll attack the chips,

Then the cookie jar I’ll browse.
Yes, once I’m older,

My wings I’ll unfurl.

Until then, I’ll bide my time

And be a good little girl.
→ More Children poems collections:
1. School Poems For Kids
2. Nature Poems For Kids
3. Family Poems For Children
4. Famous Poems For Kids
5. Animal Poems For Kids
6. Inspiring Poems For Kids
7. Funny Christmas Poems For Children
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 Topics: Children, Fun, Funny
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Robert Frost
(1874 – 1963)
William Shakespeare

(1564 – 1616)
Maya Angelou

(1928 – 2014)
Pablo Neruda

(1904 – 1973)
Emily Dickinson

(1830 – 1886)
Langston Hughes

(1901 – 1967)
Rabindranath Tagore

(1861 – 1941)
William Wordsworth

(1770 – 1850)
Shel Silverstein

(1930 – 1999)
William Blake

(1757 – 1827)
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 SPRING
The Mad Farmer Revolution
Fishing On The Susquehanna In July
Reading An Anthology Of Chinese Poems Of The Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire The
Length And Clarity Of Their Titles
Today
To The One Of Fictive Music
Peter Quince At The Clavier
 SUMMER
Marginalia
Nostalgia
Consolation
Study In Orange And White
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To The One Of Fictive Music
 WINTER
Shoveling Snow With Buddha
The Only Day In Existence
Not Ideas About The Thing But The Thing Itself
The Snow Man
Sunday Morning
Peter Quince At The Clavier
 AUTUMN
Flames
Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird
Sunday Morning
Name Of Horses
The Upstairs Room
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TOP POEMS
Sweet Love Poems
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Will Make Your…
TOP POEMS
24 Romantic Poems
For Sweet
Valentine’s Day!
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
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TOP POEMS
Sweet Love Poems
– 50 Sweet Poems
Will Make Your…
TOP POEMS
24 Romantic Poems
For Sweet
Valentine’s Day!


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TOP POEMS
Sweet Love Poems
– 50 Sweet Poems
Will Make Your…
TOP POEMS
24 Romantic Poems
For Sweet
Valentine’s Day!


0     
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