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The Best For Children Poems

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I Wish I Was An Octopus

I wish I was an... octopus, Way down in the depths of the sea, With suckers so comical, face diabolical, Kooky as kooky can be! Hurray! Hurray! I’d be jetting away! As I flunged through the shimbly sea, Confounding all others by changing my colours, An octopus’ life for me! A cephalopod who looks awfully odd, A freak with a beak, tee hee! I’d never more moan, “ooh, the pain in me bones!” Cos I’d be an invertebrate, see! Hurray! Hurray! I’d be wafting away! As I flooped through wurgly sea, Squeezing through cracks with a curious knack, An octopus’ life for me! If you crossed me, I think I would squirt you with ink, How I’d laugh as you scarpered from me! I’d be sly, I’d be smart, but I’d have a great heart, No - better than that... I’d have three! Hurray! Hurray! I’d be creeping away, As I scrundled down deep in the sea, I’d not hunger for much - for I’d taste all I touched! An octopus’ life for me! Us humans are gringey, our lives dull and dingy, What cloddery beings we be! I’d rather be flexible, waving my tentacles, Flubbering curiously! Hurray! Hurray! I’m dreaming away, Of a life in the glorpical sea, As a creature of splendour, a freak show contender, An octopus’ life for me! 3rd May 2018 For Viv Wigley’s Contest “I wish I was a...” 1st Place


Copyright © Nina Parmenter | Year Posted 2018


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A long, long time ago on a cold winter's night


A long, long time ago on a cold winter's night A long, long time ago on a cold winter’s night Two hearts were broken the crest of the eve This is the story of how it all happened How friendship will conquer if you just believe ~~~~~~~~ Soft are the wings of the firefly princess Twilight the scene of her flickering light Pine needle whispers aflutter of springtime Alone on this evening in silence her flight Warm April breezes caressing her body Slumbering daffodils, gold leaf embossed Shining, her beacon illumines the valley Twinkling sad of a friend she had lost Wandering sadly neath evergreen niches Shadows and silhouettes bend at her glow Hard to imagine her tiny heart broken Far from the beauty this night she does show When then she sees him alone on a hillside A pen in his hand as he quietly writes Silently floating, she lands on his shoulder Kind is his face that her glow gently lights Noticing teardrops upon his cheeks falling “Why are you crying?” she asks him sincere Startled, he looks at her, eyes wet and weary “Oh little firefly, what has brought you here?” He turned away gazing off up at the moonlight Then shook his head as more words he wrote down “I miss her so much,” he said in a whisper His mouth once he finished returned to a frown She knew how he felt for her heart it was broken One winter’s evening, a cold misty day Taken from sleep by her jealous big sister Evil her magic had whisked him away Just then she noticed that things felt familiar Something about him jarred her memory It can not be, visions rambled within her This can not be my friend taken from me “If I may ask sir, please when did you lose her?” She fluttered her wings so excited to hear Her light now as bright as the full moon above them Here on this hillside the skies ever clear “It’s hard to remember, but sometime last winter, a sorceress came on the solstice I think From by her side I was suddenly taken, found myself here just as quick as a wink” “Since then I’ve cried on this hillside we frolicked Writing her poetry, words how I feel Sorrow and sadness in harmonic phrases Verses my broken heart could not conceal” “The saddest part is it is merely a feeling, only her smile is what I can recall I know she was real for my heart does remind me, the rest is a blur, almost nothing at all” She thought and she thought of her wicked old sibling Remembering tears drops from friendships that fell When mixed together might change what had happened Glistening together, they could break the spell She took one of hers that she saved since December Flew to his cheek were a steady stream flowed Placed her own teardrop within his now weeping To her amazement, his body it glowed Shimmering sparkles like fireworks bursting A magical sheen filled the heavens above A blink of her eye and he changed right before her He now was a firefly, the one that she loved His eyes grew as wide as a sunflower smiling Flapping his wings like he’d never before Looking at her, his light brightly was gleaming He said, “I remember, you’re my friend I adore” He was so happy, he flew up and hugged her “I missed you,” he said “never leave me again We’ll fly and we’ll hide far away from your sister” Then he looked down and he noticed his pen He lifted it up and then flew to the paper Flapping his wings he penned one final line It read that they lived happily ever after From now in this moment, till the end of time ~~~~~~ So there you have it, a tale of best friends Missing each other once taken apart Knowing now that every happiest ending Can always be found if you look in your heart
2/13/17 Written for the Fairy Tale for Children Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Eve Roper


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017


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The Tale Of Fairies



     A long, long time ago in the land of Fays,
     lived a forest nymph of beguiling beauty.
     
     Laila, the queen of the trees, an angel of joy,
     whose mere presence brought spirits to life.
     She was beloved by all the creatures of the 
     woods.  Her voice gave magic to sunlight.
     The wind from her step brought flowers to
     bloom.

     One day, while Laila was dancing through
     the scented grasses of the glade,
     a fanciful dragonfly, on his dutiful rounds,
     became enchanted by Laila's song.

     Being drawn by the scent of her happiness
     and after circling dizzily around her head,
     he lit right on the tip of her nose and 
     immediately started to jig.

     The sight of such glee so delighted Laila
     that she broke into uncontrollable laughter.
     As soon as it was heard it shattered into
     thousands of tiny moonbeams and from
     that, my little ones, Fairies were born.

     A Fairy Tale For Children Contest
     Sponsored By Eve Roper
     02/16/2017


Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017


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Come Walk With Me


Come, walk through the beautiful forest with me, 
Enraptured by musical sounds of the wild, 
Where life dwells unhindered and gracefully free. 

For children of nature, we happen to be,
Made open and free as an innocent child…
Come, walk through the beautiful forest with me.

Enthralled with the wonder of earth’s majesty,
Abandoned with nature where God’s love has smiled,
Where life dwells unhindered and gracefully free.

Our worldly, dark troubles will magically flee,
Erasing the sorrowful memories filed…
Come, walk through the beautiful forest with me.

Tranquility flows everywhere peacefully
With fragrance of nature, sweet-scented and mild,
Where life dwells unhindered and gracefully free.

Absorbing the essence of Earth's modesty,
With stillness and beauty of nature compiled,
Come, walk through the beautiful forest with me…
Where life dwells unhindered and gracefully free.


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Second Chance #2
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 04/16/2016

~6th Place~
Contest: Villanelle's and Terzanelle's Only
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Judged: 06/23/2015


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015


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Ohoo, little butterfly

Ohoo, little butterfly........ (Poem for children) Ohoo little butterfly, what a beautiful sight of you Flying so high and circling around the trees Your wings are so beautiful with sparkling colours My eyes are dazzling when I look at you When you are a caterpillar, curled up on a leaf When you begin to fly then you are a beautiful butterfly When the spring comes you make everyone happy but during the winter you hide and make us sad When you are dancing through the sky feeling those stars are so close to our eyes You cannot make any sound but you see the world clearly So many stories are made for you and our children are so crazy on you Hope they will not catch you and keep you with them and allow you to live freely in this world forever. Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka All rights are reserved @2015


Copyright © Ravi Sathasivam | Year Posted 2015


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BABIES UNBORN

I raise my voice and rage a fight for little children trashed and thrown. Sweet little coos and burps never heard, the printed mittens never sewn. These tiny children wanted to play, and be held and cradled so near. To hear Mommy say,” I cherish you”, and lullabies to wipe dark night’s fear. Their marble eyes never touched the sun, never touched a rubber ducky in soapy arms. Never had a chance to shriek those circus smiles, or twiddle Grandpa’s warm violin thumbs . Their tiny breaths chopped in a moment, with pierce of the sharp metal they expired. Were they able to shout silent screams? Or trapped in a cocoon where they can’t hide. Their pink little fingers stopped squirming, Heart beats blocked fading black and blue, The luster of many decades of unlived joy gone. Is this the most convenient thing to do? And there go more of abrupt conceptions, Unborn babies are gifts from God to behold. The love for children has no need for shame, for guilt As news of birth is the greatest wonder ever told. ...... ........ . Contest of Scribe Marlon: Unborn Babies Dream By nette onclaud


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2011


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In Praise of Doorsteps



I think of sunsets I have seen
throughout my many years
from doorsteps where in quiet thought
I've laughed and wiped my tears.

The doorstep is a thinking spot
a place to share my day
with loved ones God has given me,
an altar where I pray.

For children it's a special seat
for rest when school work ends,
where snacks and many laughs are shared
with kindred-spirit friends.

For youths it is a meeting place
where games and dates are planned.
The simple structure serves us all,
according to demand.

Great praise is due life's doorsteps, 
both intangible and seen,
and all the portals fore and aft
for all they truly mean.


posted 11-7-15

entered in Brian Strand's Mid-June Premier Contest on June 13, 2017






Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2015


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Green- the colour of Spring


Green is made up of blue and  yellow
Renowned colour of spring you see
The sun and sky help things to grow
Brings out the blue/green in the sea

Grasses grow and wave in the sun
Some of a bluish tint it's true
Yet still long enough for children to have fun
With old games they think are new

Green are the eyes of a beauty
Whose glance can knock you off your feet
Plus dimpled smile  that says hello
Making your day feel so complete
   
Spring the word is musical
Listen  the birds are yearning to sing
The pleasure it gives everybody
Enough to imagine wedding bells ring

Brides love to wed in the springtime
The days are longer sun will shine
The rays show through the stained glass windows
Shining on the couple as they pledge to be thine


Penned 23 March 2015





Iu


Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2015


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WHAT IS-TRUE MEANING FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE

Jesus is the Divine Reason for Glorious Christmas Season

I wondered.. What’s Christmas tree for?
What does a Tree have to do with Christmas anyways?
Why should we have a Christmas tree?
I don't have a tree-I mean really-what’s point?
I mean- yes-Trees are Beautiful
(yes-Tree for Santa-put presents under for children)

But What??? I mean
What is the True meaning?
As I asked.. my Lord in prayer
This is what My Lord revealed unto me
WHAT IS-TRUE MEANING FOR A CHRISTMAS TREE?

TREE REPRESENTS:The Tree of Life
All Eternal Life shall be given through Jesus Christ

BRANCHES REPRESENT:Jesus is Vine-We are Branches
Once Born-again-in Christ (Tree of Life)
(He is in us-We are in Him) Body of Christ
Christ in You---in the Hope of Glory--Together Eternity

LIGHTS- REPRESENTS:Eternal Souls
Souls who are Born-again-turned to Christ
Embraces God's Light of Christ
Receives Holy Spirit within You—Eternally Shines

BULBS- REPRESENT: Fruits of the Spirits
Souls Witnessing-Followers of Christ-Shining God's Light
Walking Talking always in Love, Truth, Compassion
Tender-Hearted unto all Souls

TENSILE REPRESENTS: Streams Spreading Love
Sparkling-Shining God’s light

GARLAND REPRESENTS: Strength of Holy Spirit entwines
(Interweaves within Tree) flowing through Tree of Life

 STAR REPRESENT:Star of Bethlehem-Star of David
The Morning Star:God’s Glorious Divine Light Shining 
upon Our Savior---babe-in Manger

PRESENTS REPRESENT:Love between each other
Giving from out Hearts-Loving, Sharing –Caring, Compassion

As I in Awe
then wondered 
But...What about the Unbelievers?
My Lord what about them.. for you didn't mention them
As I continued on.. I asked My Lord. 
What about those Souls
Who are unbelievers?

This is what my Lord revealed to me
Reason why there is no unbelievers 
On the Tree.. Because…   It is The Tree of Life..
Those whom are unbelievers 
Have not obtained their place…
Unbelievers are Not Born-again 
Unbelievers Not receive Eternal Life -of Light

Come take you place
Receive God’s Divine Grace
Come to Jesus
Be Born-again
Then Receive Holy Spirit
Divine Light of Christ inside of thee
Your Life-Light Will Forever Shine

Ps.. Revealed- Wow!
My Lord if this be so.. Please Forgive me
I would Love then to have the Biggest Tree Ever
Then God Blessed me
I was given a 7.5 Colorado Spruce Christmas Tree & All the Fixings
Wow!  Ever so Beautiful.. Praise’s Be to God Almighty
God is Amazing.. isn't He???


Copyright © Star Light | Year Posted 2013


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The Mulberry Tree And Its Birds Part Two

A GIFT FOR EVERYONE ESPECIALLY FOR CHILDREN The Mulberry Tree & its Birds IMPORTANT NOTE: Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years ago. Use the following URL : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5dpe5_GRKE One day When Bulbul* was warbling On its branches A strange big bird with round beak Came over there To eat Mulberry’s sweet fruits The bird was expert In changing its colors Like the colorful sky But like some arrogant child She could not make anyone It’s friend on the Mulberry tree. By the time Anyone could have spotted its beauty It suddenly changed its colors And became invisible, Before others While hiding behind the leafs And the branches of the Mulberry Alone the bird came over there And alone she flew away Without any friend For some other tree. 10 Suddenly, The sparrows began to chirp Watching a Koyal* sitting Somewhere very close to them On a nearby branch of a tree. But, strangely, for all of them A Neelkanth* also Came over there And opened before them Its beautiful blue color wings. From where the Neelkanth came And for what destination, It would leave no one knows. Before the eyes Could have feasted fully All that, beauties of the Birds And the beauty, All around, the Mulberry tree A Yellow Green bird Came to drink, Water filled in a Pot Which was lying on my terrace, Not very far off From the Mulberry tree. 11 In those moments It seemed to me, As if, someone has opened A treasure Of precious, colorful birds For the tree. 12 The Shahtoot*, Used to play often The Music Of flapping sound, Of its leafs Whenever, the wind blows With, its strengths, While, touching the leafs And shaking its branches While saying slowly In the ears of the Mulberry “Dear Shahtoot – Create Music in the air” So that, we may dance together On the tunes of the wind. 13 And then the Mulberry Began to show Its beautiful dance On the tunes Of the fast blowing winds And watching that dancing beauty Of the Mulberry tree And the beauty Of its dancing leafs, The birds Often used to get filled With an unknown Happiness and joy But, sometimes The dance of the Mulberry tree Causes fear in birds And then they began to make Loud noises like crying To show their fear and anger. 14 But, when they were happy The birds began, to chirp loudly As if, They were greeting, the Mulberry For such a wonderful dance and music. 15 I used to get astonished and lost To see, Such an excellent beauty And grandeur of Nature Which, always reminds me My relations with you, O’ Shahtoot, which is as old, As are the days, of my childhood When we used to play Kilkil Kaantaa* On the lower branches, of your tree And my childhood friends Used to come like birds Searching the chalk lines Made by me, on your branches And cutting them To tell that they have found The treasure, hidden by me. 16 But, I always feel sad O’ my dear friend, Shahtoot That I could not save you From those onslaughts Due to which You just vanished, Suddenly one day For ever and forever. 17 Now, that place Where, the Mulberry used to smile Every Morning and every day Hardly get any birds To listen to, the melodies of Koyal* And the chirping sound And music of Bulbul* and of the sparrows. Even our, kids and children Of today Hardly get, any opportunity To see now colorful birds Flying and sitting On a branch of tree. They almost never see The Neelkanth* flying in the air While showing, it’s gorgeous Beautiful blue wings To tell the story of its birth O’ my dear friend Shahtoot*. 18 But, perhaps This Poem on you, O’ my friend ‘Shahtoot’ Would make you immortal For ever Because, now you would live In the hearts of everyone And you would bloom On the mind and hearts Of little kids and children Who would plant more and more Mulberry trees So that colorful birds may Keep coming on their trees And they may enjoy The beauty of Nature which lies In Plants, Trees, Birds And Animals. Such efforts of the Of kids and children Would make you immortal For ever and forever When they would listen to This story of yours And of the singing birds Which always come On your trees In the season of Mulberry. 19 Ravindra Kanpur India 10th November 2013 NOTE: Protected under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights. *Bulbul=A sweet singing Bird of India *Koyal= A melody Bird of India Shahtoot= The Hindi name of Mulberry tree and its fruits *Kilkil Kaantaa= Kilkil Kaantaa* A child game of India in which,one player makes some lines by chalk on any such object which can be searched by the other player to cut these lines and win. Note: In this Poem I have not placed only a small part of this unique story which would be the real attractions of my Video based on this unique story.Hope you would like that full wonderful story of my Video as and when it would be placed on my You Tube Channel. Love and best wishes..Ravindra K Kapoor


Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2013


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The Mulberry Tree And its Birds One of Two

A GIFT FOR EVERYONE ESPECIALLY FOR CHILDREN BASED ON A TRUE STORY IMPORTANT NOTE: Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years ago. Use the following URL : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5dpe5_GRKE The Mulberry Tree & its Birds My Mulberry tree, in its season Used to get loaded With its sweet, Mulberry fruits. To eat these sweet fruits Birds of different colors and species From even far off places Used to come to eat And to play, on its branches. Watching these lovely birds When they eat Its sweet fruits and play Was a joy for the Mulberry Which can, only be felt If you ever see the Mulberry When it is loaded With its fruits and birds In the, season of Shahtoot* . 01 The birds, used to come To stretch, their colorful wings Sometimes, to show their beauty And sometimes, to show their Their affection for the tree, But, when they were In the company, of their friends And soul mates They used to sing, some lovely songs For the Mulberry tree. 02 Seasons come and seasons go The buds of yesterday, becomes A blooming flower of today As, life keep rolling With the change of time But even, in the season of Fast blowing winds The Mulberry tree remains Spreading, its smiles, Like, an innocent child. 03 Only, in the season of falls When it use to shed its leafs The tree, Becomes, sad and lonely For a while. 04 But soon again, the tree Becomes happy and smiling When, birds return And come, to Joy fully play On its, thick and thin branches The game of love and affection While singing, their songs In praise, of the Mulberry tree. 05 Hearing those Lovely sweet voices and Singing of different birds Seems very familiar sometimes But sometimes, They seem so alien To me. 06 It was not easy to understand What, these birds say and sing In their sweet lovely language and words But one thing was clear That they used to tell, The Mulberry tree That they would come again soon To eat, its sweet fruits And to sing songs For that lovely Shahtoot* Full of fruits. 07 Today, while searching and looking Towards that side of the sky Where, the Mulberry tree Used to spread, its smiles Every morning and everyday The birds find only, A blank space in the sky And they go away Sadly from there To some other place In search of a New Mulberry tree. Those colorful birds, Who used to show their presence While, playing and jumping Up and down, when they skip On the branches, Of the Mulberry tree While singing Their sweet lovely Songs, Have almost fled away For some unknown place Forever and forever. 08 Those birds Often, used to get lost In their sweet singing voices And lovely notes Which were very dear To their soul mates . 09 Ravindra Kanpur India 1st November 2013 NOTE: Protected under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights. To be concluded in 2nd * Shahtoot = Mulberry


Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2013


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GIVING DECENCY A VOICE


In the dreary tune of a city's groan, when streets escape the raging claws of haggard breaths, a line of stars blink trading some warmth with human arms... beyond sighing notes the dusk possesses, there are more wrists handcuffed on tainted steel of unjust labor for children and women who toil beyond midnight hours. A single violin strain bites the screeches of grief and pain, of humanity rendered in ruins wrapped in tattered gauze: outlines of freezing shapes coiling in fetal postures, and they swallow a victim's blood, wondering, if the god of freedom star can restore power of life where mangled lungs cry in despise. Yet, the candle burns inside their hearts to feed dire hunger of jailed souls as the will to plod an inner odyssey blazes, searching for some need to give this slavery a voice: that birthright of choice ordained by one divine, universal law... the kind that fires the oneness of all mornings. ............................. Cyndi MacMillan's I Can't Breathe... Contest by nette onclaud ~ Currently, the Human Rights of many women and children are violated in Asia. There are women who are victims of sexual exploitation under military dictatorship, and children who become involved in human trafficking and are forced to work. ~http://hrn.or.jp/eng/g-activity/activista/


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014


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I'm Standing -(Anaphora)

I’m standing in the gap for children everywhere.
                 Wandering this world of sin and doesn’t have a prayer.

I’m standing in the gap for soldiers everywhere.
               Fighting an earthly war and dodging bullets everywhere.

I’m standing in the gap for the families that are lost
                                  So their souls will turn back to God 
                              and they will come boldly to the cross.
 
I’m standing in the gap for my sisters and my brothers.
                       We must stop this war of hatred 
                          And return to loving one another.

I’m standing in the gap for all of my fellow poets.
                  That your minds will be strengthened and
                          Your soul will be touched.

I’m standing in the gap for everyone who says pray for me.
                  I will intercede for you friends. No matter what the need.
               I will pray for your protection all through out the day.
             I will pray for your healing and the increasing of your faith.
           I will pray for guidance as you go from place to place.
          I will pray for His love, Mercy  and Peace be with you this very day.

I’m standing in the gap for Ezekiel 22:30 says..And I sought for a man 
                           Among them that , should make up the hedge, and 
          stand in the gap before me for the land, that I should not destroy it: 
                                                       but I found none.
I Am Standing In the Gap….
                
      


Patricia Monteiro this one is for you. Inspired from-Who will save the Children... 
Thank you....





Copyright © Mary Duhart | Year Posted 2007


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A Place Called Beautiful

Listen to poem:
Come Walk With Me Come, walk through the beautiful forest with me— Through nature’s own mystical, magical world Where life dwells unhindered and gracefully free, Where secrets of self can be slowly unfurled. Through nature's own mystical, magical world Enraptured by musical sounds of the wild, Where secrets of self can be slowly unfurled, Made open and free as an innocent child. Enraptured by musical sounds of the wild, Our worldly, dark troubles will soon disappear— Made open and free as an innocent child— Releasing our minds from unconscious deep fear. Our worldly dark troubles will soon disappear And peace will then flourish as never before, Releasing our minds from unconscious deep fear, Abandoned with nature, now what could be more? And peace will then flourish as never before, For children of nature, we happen to be, Abandoned with nature, now what could be more? Absorbing the wisdom of earth's honesty. For children of nature, we happen to be Where life dwells unhindered and gracefully free, Absorbing the wisdom of earth's honesty— Come, walk through the beautiful forest with me. Sandra M. Haight ~3rd Place~ Premiere Contest: A Place Called Beautiful Sponsor: Janice Thompson Judged: 06/18/2016 ~9th Place~ Premiere Contest: Contest No. 255 Sponsor: Brian Strand Judged: 12/31/2016


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016


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POETRY FOR CHILDREN - LOST

FOR CHILDREN – LOST

Kitty   kitty   
Chased by dogs
Hid inside a hollow log

When sun was down
Came kitty out
Kitty    kitty    looked about

Puzzled then
Poor kitty roamed
Found himself a mile from home

Strange names now
Each street he crossed
Kitty    kitty    scared and lost

Where    oh where
Could kitty go
Colder now    began to snow

Kitty    kitty    
filled with fright
Cried he then with all his might

No on came
Or kitty heard
Save a chirping little bird

Startled    upward kitty looked
Into the snowy    frozen night
Behold!    A golden    wondrous sight

A shining star
Its beam threw down
Upon a house in kitty’s town

Kitty    kitty
With frozen feet
Ran he then through wind and sleet

Till he reached
That star struck door
Home at last    to roam no more

Dave Austin


 





 




Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2015


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The Anatomy of a Horse

The Anatomy of a Horse (written for children)

Horse's feet have a hoof, the hard part which he can pound, 
back of this is his frog, bottom part that stays off the ground.
Between his hoof and his leg is a coronet, not like a crown
it blends into the pastern the start of his leg, now don’t frown.

Next is his fetlock, sort of an ankle, not a real lock.
Horse's rear ankle turns backwards and that it is called his hock.
His fetlock has a callous called an ergot,  can you see?
Then comes his harmless cannon, just below his hock or knee. 

On the front leg, it's a knee between forearm and cannon
His hind leg has a hock which joins gaskin to his cannon.
His elbow in the front and his stifle in the back, no fibs,
connect his upper legs to his barrel which is our horse's ribs.

Topside of the barrel, where a rider sits, twixt tail and head, 
highest part of horse's rump is called a croup instead. 
The dock is the soft part from which grows his tail, what the heck;
above his high shoulders are withers, right beneath his neck. 

Behind his ears is a part called his poll, close to his brain?
From his poll, hair makes a forelock, back down his neck, a mane.
We’ve finally reached his head and the last part, called his muzzle,  
his jaw, his nose and mouth.  A horse can be quite a puzzle. 


written October 28, 2016 for Shadow's contest, Horses


Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2016


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DO ANGELS REALLY COME TO EARTH

Do angels really come to earth,
And sit beside me by the hearth;
And do they watch me through the night,
And keep me safe till morning's light?

Does God really send them here,
To keep me safe so I won't fear;
And do they watch me night and day,
And stay close by me while I play?

Do they watch me climb each hill,
Just in case I take a spill?
God must love me very much,
To take such pains to keep in touch.



"WHOEVER RECEIVES ONE SUCH CHILD IN MY NAME, RECEIVES ME;
BUT WHOEVER CAUSES ONE OF THESE LITTLE ONES WHO BELIEVE IN ME TO STUMBLE,
IT IS BETTER FOR HIM THAT A HEAVY MILLSTONE BE HUNG ABOUT HIS NECK  AND THAT HE BE DROWNED IN THE DEPTHS OF THE SEA."
                                                                   Matthew 18:5-6

"TRAIN UP A CHILD IN THE WAY HE SHOULD GO AND WHEN HE IS OLD HE WILL NOT DEPART FROM IT."
                         Proverbs 22:6


For Children In Rhyme Contest by Francine Roberts


Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012


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Puppy Love at 55: Dedicated to Lady L

Puppy Love at 55 When I am wise, I’ll turn to puppy love With generous doses of truth and innocence, almost no shame … “Her be my gal!” Or “Me gonna marry him, so you jus’ shove!” Sound adorable. Singing, “He is mine. I am his. Gonna get married, take his name.” Gone the days of horse and carriage … some sensuous songs, also silent … At this moment I am not wise, merely older, aged fifty-five; I make amends, enjoy each tomado-love and each new accent; Aware of so much pain, woundings, the living-but-barely-alive So I recall how puppy love felt like fresh air, sunshine, pure We thought the best of belle or beau Time never existed. No bills, diapers, nothing to insure Slobbery kisses on ears, eyes, but unashamed, secure … When I turned a certain age; not so young and not so pure I thought marriage was right: seemed the way to secure Each other in love’s embrace for children, a better future … No regrets! But I gaze at a happy marriage in old pics now. So I say this to all poets, painters, quaint artists, saints and sinners: Start early with puppy love, and never give up on it; Why discuss doubling household incomes, becoming millionaires For such talk puts dollar signs where love was beautifully reflected! The children may yet teach us the ways of innocence But that is the hardest job today: among adult gadgets, to remain puppies That lick, slobber, miss the lips and kiss the eyes or chins And yet without shame, forgetting forbidden fruit, unblinking eyes - (Asking questions about hair, skin, color … hugs galore, even for the different) But as to whether I advocate divorce, May I plead the Fifth Amendment?


Copyright © Anil Deo | Year Posted 2017


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HOLIDAYS ARE

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     Times when families get together,
     it can be in Spring, Summer, Fall, or Winter weather.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     Days filled with relaxation and rest,
     and all the feasting that is only the best.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     Days for the enjoyment,
     of not having to go to our employment.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     A gift for children for as a rule,
     it's a day when they don't get up for school.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     A time of laughter heard in the trees,
     or the aroma of barbecue wafting on the breeze.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     Memories of those no longer here,
     and all the times they brought us cheer.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     When some are thrilled by colorful presents,
     but are a better gift because of our family's presence.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     The year's gifts of giving,
     for us taking part in our daily living.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     Nearly upon us again, and they bring us a tear too,
     because we love you and wish we could share them with you.

HOLIDAYS ARE...
     Truly, a present from God above,
     presented through His Son, bestowing on us His gracious love.











     


Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2015


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Orgasm Of Sadness

images pour erratically
falling on eyelashes 
tears fueling my pen 
always the sadness 
finds me waiting 


wrenching emotion 
twisting my heart 
in a vice grip 
can't stop the images 
from driving me insane 


raped and murdered eyes 
pleading for children 
drowned beneath 
adult oppression 
and addiction 


it's the emptiness 
that I write 
a cursed 

social consciousness
that blinds


I don't write love 
for it lies 
can't find happiness 
to send to my pen 
for it lays behind 
my eyes 
a tired whore 
spent and overused 
with too much hype 


can't even pen security 
never found that either 
under blankets or kisses 
not even in hardened urges 
that deflate just as quickly 
conveying only want and need 


no I write of sadness 
I return there 
a drunk to cheap wine 
guzzling my addiction 
with lust 
it holds me safe 
for it is familiar 


I live it 
I see it 
it knows my name 
and I know its


we are intimate 
sadness and I 
a couple 
twisted together 

in some grotesque 
sexual position 
culiminating in ****** 
with my depressed pen

 

 

 



Copyright © Bernadette Langer | Year Posted 2007


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Wish To Believe


I humbly offer to you,
an explanation for the madness
I submit the George Costanza defense,
as the reason for things which make no sense
A lie is not a lie,
if you choose to believe it's true
If you wish to believe it's not a lie,
then the consequences are on you
Fairy tales are for children,
and adult fantasies are for grownups
who wish to disengage from reality
A lie is not a lie,
if this is what you choose to believe
Do you wish to believe in myths,
do you wish to believe in what ifs?
Well, the world of make believe
is filled with fairies blowing stardust
But the world of reality
is filled with lovers of avarice and lust
In whom did you say you trust?
If the George Costanza defense 
is your alibi for things which make no sense
Then a lie really ain't a lie ...
and a good laugh is what you have,
when you know you really need a good cry


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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Mento

They say I must sing
Through sunset dripping blood
And despite the broken wing
Of the bird fluttering
Where the boy had left it innocently
Sling shot wounded to die
They say I must sing
Say I must make the fourth beat
The important thing
And I want to know why should I bleat
Only after I have felt four lashes
I want to know
Because as a child the drop-pan man sold numbers
Making me know numbers had a owner
They belonged to someone
And that someone said four was the number of blood
And blood is the price of freedom
And the song is the memory of things
Things I do not want to forget
Things I file in the subconscious for a rainy day
Which must end for children to play
I love the songs we use to sing
The mento fife playing
While the folks clap
Mosquitoes and flies sapping the flesh
Parasites the flood left behind
I love the mento song
That they grow in Sunday morning digging songs
But I do not sing that rhythm now
The harmony is broken in me
For I do not know, cannot tell
Why the fourth beat intercedes my hell.


Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010


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TEACH THE CHILDREN THE ALPHABET A Dedication to Child Advocate Poet Teacher Eve Roper

TEACH THE CHILDREN THE ALPHABET 
 A Dedication to Child Advocate Poet Teacher Eve Roper

It's up to us, the parents and other adults
What has happen to the village
Caring for children is an honor and privilege

   teach the children the alphabet
 so they can build the words
   teach them how to read sentences
 so that they can read God word

It's up to us, the parents and other adults
What has happen to the village
Caring for children is an honor and privilege

it's the fathers, mothers, grandparents
 -our teachers and neighbors
we all have a commitment a service
 -to teach the children
so they all understand learn how 
-to praise the Lord
the world would be so much better
-if we teach the children the letters
to form words, read the words from the bible
-to learn about God and Jesus Christ

It's up to us, the parents and other adults
What has happen to the village
Caring for children is an honor and privilege
So let us TEACH THE CHILDREN THE ALPHABET 

Dedication Poet  Eve Roper
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.2018©
4/18/18


Copyright © James Edward Lee Sr. | Year Posted 2018


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My Poems

My poems are not for leisure
They are guns 
Aim at imperial anatomy
Notes slipped to a teller’s eyes
For easy withdrawal
Of ancestral deposits
My poems are not for leisure
They are flowers for graves
Of dead theories and foolish warriors
Who slave for vanity
Flowers cover well the rot
Of lovers’ insanity.
My poems are not for leisure
They are for children
Who have heard the piper’s call
After the elevation of the rats
Who put banks on crutches 
Of tarp funds, bailing out
On mortgages where homeless
Families wander 
In insensitive arguments of the street
My poems will never be silent
Against Godless lies
And crooks impenitent 
In Congress or Parliaments
Striking from the dark of consciences
Bleeding alone in teary trenches
Gasping the green gas
Of laws muting its militant lines
I give you my poem – not anesthesia
Just wine.


Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009


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Robin Gass

Born and raised in New Jersey,
  A true hearted Jersey girl.
With a natural gift of wordplay,
  Poems emerge as her pen swirls.

With a love for children, music,
  Animals, words, and people.
She lives by the golden rule,
  By making others feel equal.

Bearing a kind and caring heart,
  She makes friends forevermore.
And spreads her love at home,
  With her family and 3 Labradors.

She loves to joke around,
  And making others laugh.
Here’s a tribute to our friend,
  New Jersey’s own Robin Gass.







___________________________
Dedicated to Robin Gass 
for her neverending support.


Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2009