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Best 4Th Grade Poems | Poetry

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4th Grade Music Room by Richards, Carrie

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The Best 4Th Grade Poems

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

A Simple Hamburger If You Please

Sure.
Ketchup.
Pickle
Horseradish too.

Mayo 
Lettuce?
That’s up to you.

Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?

A touch of butter
A slab of bacon.

Please put them on 
If mine you’re making.

Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

A magical feeling unknown anywhere else lingered at the faerie waterfall
This was the gentle resting place of all worn-out muses and elves, after all
A mystical silence filtered over each caregiver, lingering over each rose in bloom
King and Queen Council had ruled no interlopers ever, could enter this sacred place
This astral valley and heavenly meadow full of strawberries was given to them by God’s good grace.
Summer day break was lighting up the valley by the warm happy shine of a shimmery white moon
Day young, the caregiving faeries flitted around excitedly, knowing the day was full of potential.
Hope, love, compassion and good spirited fun here was terminally quintessential
As new souls were brought here to nourish and love fully, before they entered mother’s womb.
Everything at Faerie Valley was orchestrated, to be heavenly-inspired, helpful and tender sweet.
Dream-state-magic, giving the waiting families and neonates a dream-state place to meet
When the birthing day arrives, there is a lot less surprise, and jubilant rejoicing from the womb.
Hark! What is that I hear? It is faerie flutist’s sweet note music, calling us to listen to love’s call.
A baby is being born, this one with those enormous brown eyes, the one whose last name will be Hall.
Whisked away, leaving a trail of marigolds, and yellow buttercups, in a methodical magical state of faerie zoom,
We reach the hospital in the nick of time, and deliver our pretty babe, to parents who are pining.
When we newly-deigned stork magicians float back to the faerie waterfall, every elf and nymph is shining.
A leprechaun musician known by all us first week’s elves as Lars congratulates us, one and all.
Did you get a birth announcement? He asks, but we are shocked, not knowing it was essential.
Faerie Queen said it is a bit of a tradition, but you are new, so this time it is not quintessential.
The parents were so excited to wrap the baby up, count his toes, and listen to his baby heartbeat.
We newbies felt happy, excited, enthusiastically crazy about our job, and sixteen inches tall.
Glad to be a part of this excitement, they allowed us a dip our toes into the secret faerie waterfall.
There was a celebratory banquet with goodies in the Hand Maiden’s Reception Hall.
We were both talking about the delivery over and over, completely over the moon.
Next time, get the birth announcement the queen said, so it was important after all.

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

Big Hand Little Hand Long Hand Short Hand

When I was little I thought the older a person was, the more brain cells you grew.
Thus, older people are smarter than little people.
That thought was long gone by the time I was four or five.
At eight I was so confused by big hand and little hand on the clock, I thought I would lose my mind.
Big hand to me was little hand, because the big hand they were talking about was the thin longer hand.
Thinner to me meant little, not big.
The thick hand they were calling little hand actually should have been referred to as short hand, but it
Was not. To the big people it was little hand. To me it was big hand because it was the fattest hand.
I did not know how to tell time for about a hundred years, because it did not make sense!
I could not get it, so of course, this was the unit I was elected to teach when I was a student teacher.
And for those of you who like math, do you understand a bit more why the word math strikes terror in my soul?
Big hand. Little hand. Good golly, Miss Molly.
If they had only used short hand, and long hand I would have immediately understood
Because I KNEW words.
Not math, not telling time, not numbers, but I did know words.
Teaching me to tell time would have been insanely simple, if the right words could have been used!
Why did they not understand what I was trying to figure out?
Because they did not LISTEN to me.
I was a child, after all.
A child who knows her words.
Big hand for long hand?
Long hand for big hand?
Everyone was too busy shaking their head and telling me ‘no’ to realize what I was saying.
Listen people, listen, because your children are smarter than you know, and they are
Trying to talk.

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

Cat Nip Addict


catnip
cat addict
marijuana
cat resembles vampire
catnip

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

Missing My Game Pieces

My Silver top hat and my Boardwalk card are missing.
This happened to my cousin.
It is only a matter of time until this gets discovered.
By the time it does it will be too late.
I am going to try to contact prissy woman
With telepathy.
Look under the couch,
Look under the couch!
Uh-0h.
Vrrrrmmmmmmmm
There goes my Boardwalk card.
I will be replaced now.
Competitive Man’s favorite
Property is Boardwalk.

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

Can A Dragon Be A Friend

Fiction? Fantasy?
True or make-believe?
Use the fear of men
Throw in a princess
Dragon adventure

Horrible thing
Where is a knight?
Where is his sword?
They are brutal

Fierce and proud
Smoky, loud
Lonely, sad?

A pet?
A friend?

Smoke?

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

Here Comes Steampunk Annie

If I was part machine, a steampunk woman, or a steampunk dog, or a steampunk cat,
I would choose to have a machine heart, so I could be less soft. 
So my feelings would not get hurt so easily, so I could
Stop crying inside when people get mean and mad,
Or a tsunami kills a bunch of innocents.
I would also choose machine eyes – big round soft brown ones,
Because of the floaties I have in my older green and hazel eyes.
Floaties could not get into steampunk eyes, right?
I would choose bendable, new steampunk machine knees.
They would jump and summersault and do cartwheels and
Other stuff I can no longer do after tearing my ACL and
Meniscus which never got fixed, because it happened
At work and Workman’s Comp told me at my age,
Surgery would not be smart.
They would call me Steampunk Annie, and I would
Run up and down alleys, saving people from the robbers,
And the drug pushers, and I would kick the drug pushers
In their petootsies and make them cry
Because they would not have steampunk eyes
Or anything.  I would rock the Steampunk
World with sass and vim, and be
The super hero I know I can be!

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

Lions Tigers And Bears Oh Why

Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh, my.
Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh why?
Lions and Tigers and Bears are not really all that scary to me,
When we read the facts about other animals in tropical forests, and under the sea.

We should change the song to this little tune:
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh my.
Puffer Fish, Golden poison dart frog and the tsetse fly, oh why?
These little creatures are as scary as the cone snail which is no cartoon.
The cone snail has a hypodermic-like needle with venom, shaped like a harpoon.
So if you see a cone shell, on a beautiful beach,
Remind yourself it may be alive, before you reach.

If you are in a rain forest, and you see the cutest little golden frog hopping through,
Know before you pocket it that it weighs less than an ounce, but has enough poison to kill you.
The golden poison dart frog could take you out, and nine of your favorite fellow travelers too.  
The toxin, which comes out of her sweet little skin, 
could show you all what a mood she is in.
The puffer fish is clumsy, and slow, and cannot readily hide.
But his toxins are more deadly than twelve hundred spoons of cyanide.
Lions, tigers, and bear, oh my.
Better them than the puffer fish, golden dart frog, cone snail, and the tsetse fly.

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

My Little Green Lizard

Today I caught a little green lizard
He was the best one I have ever seen.
I caught him in my lizard-catching net,
He was poised, confident, polite and clean.

His vocabulary was amazing.
He used words like falcon, asinine, and verbose.
His manners were impeccable,
They would astound you coast-to-coast.

His stories caught us by our guts,
And threw our feelings in the air,
They made us laugh and chuckle
Brother Lee fell off his chair.

Tomorrow I will get him licensed,
Purchase him a red-silk-lined top hat and cape,
I will get him certified and tattooed,
The best pet I have had since Homer, my pet ape.

Today I caught a little green lizard,
I will enjoy his exotic stories day by day,
Having a pet is expensive, and wearing,
But worth it in every kind of way.

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

Ruler of Daddy Longs Leg Resort

The Daddy Long Legs crawled into my tea.
Looked up and smiled, coyly at me.
Invited his wife and his offspring, all three.
They were having the best time, I truly could see.

So I decided to make them a big bowl of tea.
I put in sugar and lemons, I cut them delicately.
I had Daddy Long Legs invite relatives to this magnificent tea.
They swam and they floated, with their faces to me.

They turned this big bowl into a Long Leg’s Resort.
They named me the Queen, and we held Daddy Long Legs Court.
Pretty soon I had to move them to a big pool in my back yard.
Being the ruler of Long Leg’s is surprisingly hard!

Details | 4Th Grade Poem |

She Spoke

I was in 4th grade - when most kids are 9 or 10 years old.  Not yet to the semi-adulthood of the teenage years, and not just "little kids" anymore, either.  You might do a little cursing, acting in front of your friends, you may care about the clothes you have for school, you're getting some sense of drama, if it's these most modern times you're a whiz on a smart phone, a video game, a computer.

You know about wrong and right, social status, and messing with other people. Kids can be so cruel. Even saying it outright like that, it's an understatement.  One object of sometime torment in our class was a girl named Odessa.  She was tall, possibly early puberty - there are those years where girls may be the tallest in class - and she had trouble reading. She could do it, but it was slow and halting, a struggle, rough for her. 

One day we were studying a story in class, going around the room, kids reading a paragraph at a time.  It was voluntary - you raised your hand if you wanted to read.  We'd been at it for a while, and got to the point where no hands were raised.  "Anybody else want to read, that hasn't, yet?" the teacher asked.

Ronald, from the other side of the room, gave a loud whisper, "Odessa." He was a class clown, like me, but really a pretty darn good guy - it was little surprising that he would get so aggressive, propose exposing her to shame.  Hurriedly, the teacher said, "Okay, let's finish the story."  She looked the class over, was going to start picking people to finish the reading; her eyes landed on me. "Doug." She gave a little nod of her head - my signal to go.

There shouldn't have been any real surprise, then - if there are true evil aspects that ten year olds can have, I was a holder. "Odessa hasn't read," I declared, brightly, sickening with calculation, my tone suggesting I was both helping the teacher and Odessa, concerned with fairness and equitability: every dear child should have their chance.

The teacher gave me a withering stare, no doubt thinking, "Oh you little so-and-so..." - and she was right. Her voice came then, loud and cutting, leaving no open course but to comply, "Douglas, READ." I inclined my head, my good deed done for the day, and launched into a smooth rendition.

A few weeks later, we wrote stories about somebody in our family that we looked up to, and the following day the teacher read a few of the ones she felt were the best. One was by Odessa, about her older brother.  It really was good - and afterwards the teacher asked her if her brother still lived at home.

"No, he's dead."

She said it in a special way, not blurting it out but still hurried, a little bit of voice waver on the "dead," a ghost of a sob concealed, the whole thing slightly breathy.  Special in that even though she was shy, awkwardly tall, and the subject of jokes, the instant was true - and she gave it to us, raw and real.

Silence. Nobody said a thing, we class clowns keeping shut too.  Just a little, my life was changing. She got through an explanation that her brother had been working on his car; that the car fell off the jacks and crushed him.

Since then, 6 billion people have been born on earth, and almost 3 billion have died.  A part of me is still in that moment, not a bad thing.

She was a girl

who lost her brother

whom she loved dearly


I never did anything mean to her again.

Best 4Th Grade Poems | Poetry

New 4Th Grade Poems

The Best 4Th Grade Poems

Do You Need Some Pixie Dust

4th Grade Music Room

My crazy creatures

Farm Sense

Second Row to the Board

I'm your crazy wand

My hearts love

Love is a bond

A Simple Hamburger If You Please

The F Poem

Land of Dreams

Thwarting the Bullies

Cat Ninette

She Is Taking My Friends Away

Loses Things Too

Magical Faerie Water Fall

Big Hand Little Hand Long Hand Short Hand

Cat Nip Addict

Missing My Game Pieces

Can A Dragon Be A Friend

Here Comes Steampunk Annie

Lions Tigers And Bears Oh Why

My Little Green Lizard

Ruler of Daddy Longs Leg Resort

She Spoke