Best Preschooler Poems
He is out in the hallways wailing like a wailing wall.
I do not get involved until asked, so I stand quietly.
The teacher comes out and tries to reason with him.
I have never met him. He is a preschooler.
Technically I am licensed to aid with K-12th.
He is outside my jurisdiction.
In eighteen minutes, the principal is called to the room.
She comes to my door with this child.
He comes in and we discuss many things.
He is five, and super bright. His vocabulary is astounding.
He speaks of outlets, inner tubes, carbohydrates.
I am amazed; he is not what I expected.
He stays long enough to draw a picture of a pink snake.
I tell him I fear it and he giggles like a joyful three-year-old.
I ask him not to draw a baboon, telling him it will eat me.
He throws back his head and gives me a donkey-bray-laugh.
We are having a terrific time when they retrieve him.
I am sad to see him go.
Categories:
preschooler, school,
Form:
Narrative
To say today has been a strange day would be an understatement. It started off this morning when I went into the den where our eldest cat, Paint, was meowing up a storm. I petted her head a few times and no joke she keeled over and died right then and there. We were kinda expecting it but damn what a way to start the day.
A few hours later I had an appointment to inspect a truck for a family and nobody speaks English except the kindergartener. I pull up to their house and this yard is a mess. Trash everywhere. I see the truck I needed to inspect parked in the yard and the cutest looking little sleeping puppy curled up next to the front tire and yep you guessed it...I go straight to ’selfie with an unsuspecting dog mode’. Here I am kneeling down trynna get the best angle for the perfect selfie and reach out to pet the pooch and this dog is cold and stiff as a rock. Just then the entire family (Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents 2nd and 3rd cousins) pours out of the front door and here I am hovered over their dog trying to explain to a bunch of people who don’t speak a lick of English that their dog is dead. Stupid me is pointing at the dog while pretending to slit my throat...the international sign for your dog is dead ????? The Mexican father reached down and pokes the dog then starts jabbering something about El Diablo and giving me the stank eye. The grandmother breaks out her rosary beads and begins saying the Lord’s Prayer and finally the English speaking preschooler comes toddling out and interprets for me....I didn’t kill your dog! I just want to get the hell out of there so I begin taking photos of the truck. Here comes the funny part. I accidentally step on either a tarter sauce or ranch dressing condiment container and produced what sounded like explosive diarrhea and spewed white looking pelican all over everybody’s pants and shoes. The toddler giggles and I just grin and keep on keepin on. Fast forward to the end of the day I’m digging a hole to bury my cat ‘paint’ and out of the ten acres we own I pick the exact same spot I buried another cat-dog-chicken or chupacabra a decade earlier and there’s bones and ribs everywhere. Anywho I feel like I need a shot of tequila or twelve.
Categories:
preschooler, cat, cheer up, death,
Form:
Narrative
I long to drive an impractical car
a convertible
with seats for two
and wear impractical clothes
Chanel suits that say
“Dry Clean Only”
I want to live in an impractical house
downtown
three stories high
with white carpets,
and closets I can lock
with a key.
But I'll drive my practical van
with seats for seven
and wear denim and sweats
I'll buy that split level in suburbia
with carpeting the color of body fluids
and chocolate milk
Because the soft sweet cheeks of a newborn,
the smile of a gleeful toddler, and
the straight arrow logic of a preschooler
and the antagonism of a teen
are worth far more to me.
True, it's a cliché, but only
truth breeds cliché. And my love
is true.
Categories:
preschooler, children, conflict, love, mother
Form:
Verse
I want to drive an impractical car
a convertible
with seats for two
and I'd treasure some impractical clothes
Chanel suits that say
“Dry Clean Only”
I long to live in an impractical house
downtown, three stories high
with white carpets
I covet a phone that rings only for me
a password the kids don't know
and shoes only I can wear
but I'll drive my practical van
with seats for seven
and wear denim and sweats
I'll buy that split level in suburbia
with carpeting the color of body fluids
and chocolate milk
Because the pillowy cheeks of a newborn,
the smile of a gleeful toddler, and
the straight arrow logic of a preschooler
are worth their weight far more to me.
True, it's a cliché, but only
truth breeds cliché. And my love
is true.
Categories:
preschooler, appreciation, children, love, self,
Form:
Verse
Willy, the Rat Terrier
He nibbles on my nose.
Why? Heaven only knows!
Each tooth feels like a pin.
I need much thicker skin!
Yet Willy, the rat terrier,
could not be any merrier.
After a bath or stroll
he sprints around the whole
apartment like a race
car driven by an ace
who’d swallowed too much speed.
(Perhaps it’s just his breed
that is to blame for that.)
He’s like a mad preschooler
who drank from the wine cooler
and got so hugely gassed,
runs so awful fast,
is such an acrobat,
a poor rat would have no shot
at evading such a tot.
I wouldn’t like to be
that rat, believe you me!
He’d shake it side to side
until the critter died,
which would be just as quick
as death by a dropped brick.
Even a swift hare
wouldn’t have a prayer!
Yet the only life this brat
has so far ever seized
was neither hare nor rat,
but the schnoz from which I’ve sneezed.
Categories:
preschooler, animal, humorous, irony, pets,
Form:
Light Verse
Words on a T-shirt of a preschooler
‘If you think I’m bad, blame my dad’
Cause less concern about the child
Than the role model that he had
Unfortunate enough to witness
Shirts with verbiage of neglect
A few too many that left my
Mouth open, stomach upset
The typical ones ‘Pretty princess with an attitude,’ and
‘If you think I’m cute you should see my dad’
Do not bother my core
As a few others had
‘Doing more harm than good,’ made my eyes roll
‘I want what I want,’ made me mad
‘And your point is?’ made me shake my head
‘The world owes me a living,’ made me sad
Although I slightly laughed when I read
‘I pee in the pool’
It still sends the message
The parent is a fool
‘Aren’t you glad I’m not your kid’
Made me think it couldn’t get any worse
Until I read ‘Do not resuscitate’
And heard myself curse
Categories:
preschooler, caregiving, childhood, educationme, me,
Form:
Rhyme
It is the everyday miracles that have the greatest influence in our lives
A baby's first response to its parent's voice
The child that searches for you in the middle of the night after hearing a scary noise
Losing a first tooth
Finding your first Easter egg
A preschooler recognizing their name
Sitting on Granpa's lap playing a game
A caterpillar crawling slowly on the sidewalk
Later seeing it drift by as a butterfly
A father watching his child be born
Or hearing children's laughter in the distance as a loved one is mourned
Making a friend smile
Or just knowing when to let them cry
Being pushed on a swing
A favorite song to sing
Watching a bird take a bath in a puddle
Your dog eyeing the geese flying overhead
Blowing the candles of your birthday cake
Granny teaching you of the cookies to bake
Picking a flower, jumping in a pool, raking leaves, throwing a snowball
Feeling contentment at the end of the day
May we all take the time to witness the miracles that surround us everywhere we go
Categories:
preschooler, hopeeaster, child,
Form:
Free verse
Of Real Or "FAKE" Memories
Earlier today...upon
setting feet out a side door,
a refreshingly cool rain
washed away present woes,
and ushered auld lang syne,
sans mine earlier childhood quatrain
such as the incy wincy spider sung
(way out of tune) by
my then young mum,
yet clear as day she evinced
unabashed loved simply and plain,
which cherished rarely
jogged memory main,
lee lost in sigh burr space,
perhaps arising some
where (over the rainbow...)
in toto within my midbrain
ah...methought, how perfectly spontaneous
I spunkily danced down
Drury (er rather Lantern) Lane
sudden recollection of real or
feigned salad days of yore
blessedly carefree, innocently naive,
which elapsed many a score
years ago poked thru consciousness
so vividly, despite
at nineteen and four
tee Earth's orbitz ago,
hence summarily explore
thyself as an adorable boy around
'pon the onset of incipient curiosity
(i.e. preschooler),
aye did unexpectedly bound
forth like a midsize dog ecstatic
to greet her/his master,
the latter played and clowned
with four legged woman's/
man's "best friend,"
where non verbal
communication did expound
volumes of unconditional mutually
symphonic, sympathetic, and symbiotic
couched make believe buddies
never abandoned me always around:
Categories:
preschooler, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
This little preschooler sounded very precocious.
Unlike many adults, she seemed quite perspicacious.
This little girl was frank and honest with her word.
She did not seem to care about how she was heard.
The unexpected statement I could hear loud and bold.
It came from someone not more than three or four years old.
The little child was clear and easy to understand.
The father just smiled and took her by the hand.
The mother may have deemed her daughter uncouth.
However, the girl’s voice uttered unmitigated truth.
In only three words, this kid said it all.
She spoke at a food court in a shopping mall.
The short statement coming from this little pundit,
was the unmistakably heard “It’s all ********”.
Categories:
preschooler, daughter, family, people,
Form:
Rhyme
W?rdz sp?ld k?'r?kt 'v?rs?s f?'n?t?k'sp?l??
alternately titled fun with phonics
'?lt?rn?tli 'ta?t?ld f?n w?ð 'f?n?ks
analogous when like first learning how to spell American English words
?'næl?g?s w?n la?k f?rst 'l?rn?? ha? tu sp?l ?'m?r?k?n '??gl?? w?rdz
I thought to feign not knowing how to spell American English words
A? ??t tu fe?n n?t 'no??? ha? tu sp?l ?'m?r?k?n '??gl?? w?rdz
and quickly realized the daunting task,
Ænd 'kw?kli 'ri??la?zd ð? 'd?nt?? tæsk,
thus sought magnanimity, gratuity, courtesy...
Google search (phonetic transcription of words) to assist me
Ð?s s?t magnanimity, gr?'tu?ti, 'k?rt?si..
'gug?l s?r? (f?'n?t?k ?træn'skr?p??n ?v w?rdz) tu ?'s?st mi
Words spelled correct versus phonetic spelling
(the latter appended after poem concludes).
Thus now begins feeble attempt
to render rhyme for no reason
appended with phonetic translation
mainly as playful tease zen
synonymous imagining teaching
said exercise to eager children
reminding readers that young
and restless with spotty attention
hear spoken word while in utero,
post natal, subsequently when
he/she parrots parent(s) and/or
guardian, a more deliberate yen
arises to acquire greater cognition,
intuition, question (quest ja hen)
quickly devolving into faux ken
barbed riotous laughter analogous
trying wits of patient comedian/
comedienne resorting quite often
to repetition, remonstration,
reiteration... which frustration
might necessitate taking ten,
or so minutes of intermission
mindful mentor praises pen
ultimate verbal adroit ability
earning healthy treat for recitation,
perhaps recipient exceptionally
eager to advance passing golden
milestone able, ready, and will len
to tackle writing correct spelling,
whence learning to hold pen(cil)
(without being vain) begin men
till process, which next step den
allows, enables and provides sen
sit heave hands on guidance
helping preschooler - all liven
and well with enthusiasm clutch
writing implement fingers open
before gently grasping above ren
during kudos with an amen.
Categories:
preschooler, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Day 1 Weekly Thriller
Narrator
As the youngster blinked a little more often firstly this morning
The inquisitively teacher as she very much looked, noted, as asked
The wind was very windy today , making sorts of noise
Inquisitive Teacher
" Is something the matter with your eye's youngster ?''
The wind knocked a branch of to the window of the class room,
the kids all screamed
Narrator
Witnessing the youngster trying to blink back tear's as if ready to save a sadly
exposed fire. Again as her question was all but most intelligently non
questioned upon . On par , as one could be , more or less. Inquisitive teacher predicted upon herself . May another say passive aggressive she may be so.
Silent word's been by looked beyond a feeling gave her a shiver. Brought by coldness of word's becoming both retrospectively doublet responses.
All of a sudden the lights go out, screams were silent but heard through out the school
Inquisitive Teacher
" Now, let's have a seat " as she's shushing with a hand gesture
Narrator
Duration of this unexpected day was mere analyzing this subjective subject whom was her student . No more , no less. Her heart felt troubled yet heroically toward's the psychological next step .....to be continued
Categories:
preschooler, adventure, anxiety, character, child,
Form:
Jurassic Prayer
By Mark D. Stucky
We asked our preschooler to pray,
and with dinner plates before us
and our hands folded,
he paused in silence
and then roared in imitation
of a wounded, angry dinosaur.
We all laughed at the incongruous “prayer”
from the tiny portrayal of a monstrous T-Rex,
but was the inadvertent theology
as inappropriate as first thought?
Religious roars of pain and anger
permeate the book of Job,
the story of an exemplary man
wounded by undeserved catastrophes.
In anger, Job roared at judgmental comforters.
In anguish, he roared at the world and at God.
And God roared back from a whirlwind
and later restored Job’s many blessings.
When wounded by anguish or anger
and longing for or fearing death,
good therapy is roaring at God
and baring one’s soul’s darkest depths,
for God, through crucifixion, felt our pain
and God, through resurrection, roared good news
that monstrous Death dies defeated.
And God will wipe away our tears
at the final end of earthly evil’s roaring
and the new beginning of celestial singing.
(First published in Agape Review, 11 July 2022. See also my poem "Bringing Heaven to Earth" and my visual poem “Haiga for the Heavenbound.”)
(Image by user1457424776 on Pixabay.com.)
Categories:
preschooler, child, god, prayer, psychological,
Form:
Free verse
Preschooler mesmerized by The Prayer - angels sing.
La luce che tu dai
I pray we'll find your light
Nel cuore resterà
And hold it in our hearts
A ricordarci che
When stars go out each night
L'eterna stella sei
Songwriters: Carole Bayer Sager / David W. Foster
Fischer-Bocelli Bravura
sprightly vibrato
violins serenade
sage roses on stage
9/13/2021
Categories:
preschooler, beautiful, music,
Form:
Senryu
January 8 2014
Dad died this morning
Nothing changed
The world didn't stop turning
The sun is still in the sky
The days go just as fast
But dad died this morning
January 22 2014
Dad died about 2 weeks ago
I still haven't cried
Is there something wrong with me
Why does everything feel the same
Mom cried
My siblings cried
Did i not love him enough
May 8th 2014
Dad died about 4 months ago
We had his funeral
Michael pushed me into someone
I hate michael
I still haven't cried
I'm starting to think there's just something
Wrong with me
January 8th 2015
It's been a year since dad died
I'm still getting cards
From friends and neighbors this time
I like my new teacher
I'm in kindergarten now
I've started to remember little snapshots from
The hospital
I just try to forget
January 8th 2017
It's been 3 years since dad died
I cry for him now
I cry for the preschooler who always got
Weird looks Because when the girls yelled daddy’s here she couldn’t yell back
I cry for the little girl who always got attached
to her female teachers
And never knew why
I cry for my only memory is that of myself
Standing in the door of the hospital room for the
Third week in a row
I saw a man in the bed before me
Wires and tubes running through his arms
His chest rose and fell without a sound
His feet move gently under the thin covers
His brown hair falling out all over the white stained pillows
But i didn't see dad
Because dad was at home waiting for me to
get out of the car
Dad had gotten me strawberries from the
Store
Dad was okay i thought or so i wished
January 8th 2019
Dad died 5 years ago
Nothing changed
The world didn't stop turning
The sun is still in the sky
The days go by just as fast
But hugs feel more hollow
Strawberries aren't as sweet
Summer nights are colder
It's been almost 10 years since dad died
Im 13 years old now
I don't think about him that often
But the little emptiness i feel in my gut sticks
All the same
When you get off the bus today
Or when you throw your bag in the backseat
Of your car
Or when you kick your shoes off at the door
Tell your dad you love him Because I cant
Categories:
preschooler, dad, death, emotions, grief,
Form:
Free verse
THE SHEER FINDINGS OF A FAMILY SUFFERING WITH MENTAL ILLNESS YOU TRY AND FOCUS MOSTKY ON YOUR TRIGGERS FIR ME ITS WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK COPS SELLING DRUGS WITH MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND TODAY MY.MILITARY FAMILY CONTINUES TO COPE PTSD ON JOHN MCCAIN LEVEL ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE PTSD SITUATIONS IN AMERICA AS MY FAMILY RELIVE TRAUMA THE SHEER FACT JAMAICAN DEALERS POSING AS FBI AGENTS MANIPULATING MY DISABLED SPOUSE INTO ATTACKING HIS ENTIRE FAMILY WE FOCUS ON 1969 MY BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND ASSIGNED BY THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT TO ATTACK FRED HAMPTONS BREAKFAST PROGRAM KILLING PRESCHOOLERS TODAY MY HUSBAND NAMED AFTER A GRAND DRAGON MARRIED TO ME A CIVIL RIGHTS LEADERS NAME MY DEATH PLANNED BY THE GOVERMENT MY HUSBAND ARRIVED WITH TROOPS LOADED BLANKS DEVESTATED FROM VIETNAM BEING LABELED BABY KILLERS REFUSING TO KILL LITTLE BROWN AMERICANS IN CHICAGO INSTEAD PREVENTING THE SHOOTING DEATHS AT FRED HAMPTONS BREAKFAST PROGRAM I WAS A PRESCHOOLER WHEN THEY ARRIVED WHAT A BLESSING OUR PATHS CROSSED TOGETHER WE ARE THE AMERICAN FAMILY WE ARE AMERICA BEING TRIGGERED BY CORRUPTION ORGANIZED CRIME ABUSE OF POWER FALSIFYING HELL ON EARTH WHAT TRIGGERS PTSD WHAT COMFORTS THE TRAUMATIC EVENTS HOW TO PREVENT A PERSON WITH PTSD FROM RELIVING TRAUMA PREVENTING STAND OFFS PREVENTING CRISIS SITUATIONS HERE IN AMERICA WE ARE AMERICA'S DISABLED FAMILY WE ARE HOME
Categories:
preschooler, allah,
Form:
Naat