These Child Limerick poems are examples of Limerick poems about Child. These are the best examples of Child Limerick poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
The Pancakes are ready to eat
My Granddaughter's help was so neat
The eggs she did crack
The smiles did not lack
As eggshells were part of the treat
© 2013 Rick Zablocki
My 4 year old granddaughter helped me make breakfast this am, pancakes from scratch. Lots of fun.
Once was a gal who felt so alone
Tornato came up rooted farms home
Landed on wicked witch
Munchkins came out of ditch
Gave dog lollypops instead of bone
One day on the trampoline, my nephew, aiming for the tree,
overshot his leap and jumped as far as the eye can see.
If you squint hard enough
you'll see it in the buff;
a minuscule dot orbiting the galaxy!
NOTE: My nephew Ethan is one of those kids where it's not enough to say he's skinny (if he inhaled enough helium I wonder the possibilities of him floating away).
My granddaughter's name is Mahala
She plays with lots of great stamina
We run here and there
We play everywhere
Pretending to be a tarantula
© 2013 Rick Zablocki
When I was a child of nine
I thought I had all the time
Time to live and be happy
Time to fish with my pappy
But death had crossed the line
Ole St. Nick sat on a brick
and shouted my Dick is my Dick.
They thought vulgarity.
He shouted Dick was his baby.
They exclaimed, “His name is Patrick!”
He was an unusual boy
Who thought Granny played with his toys
Granny thought it was so cute
She's his playmate in cohoots
Even though she is being coy___
The mighty warlord shakes his fist and sends his troops to the abyss
Families broken and torn because of an oath that was sworn
Fathers and sons die in vain but no one can feel their pain
Mothers cry as their children are sent off to die
Innocent blood is shed, does no one care for these dead
Sadness grips the heart of man as many a persons blood stains the land
Cries from the public go unheard as the warlord shouts his mighty words
Kill them all he says, make these people pay
The screams of wounded go on through the night begging for the warlord to end the fight
No answer comes from his high up throne for his heart is cold as stone
Only a child dared to face him
He begged for his people
His words so moved the warlord he again shook is fist this time calling his troops from
Families are pieced back together after the mighty storm they have weathered
The child is proclaimed a hero
Sides that once wared against each other now call themselves brothers
Fields are resown and homes rebuilt, no longer does the warlord feel guilt
But nothing can replace the loss of life for that is the true price of war