Best Seasonschildren Poems
The leaves are falling, on the ground
You can’t hear them, there is no sound.
For it is fall, the weather cool
Some carve pumpkins, decorate too.
Picking costumes, for kids to wear
Some want cute ones, so not to scare.
Putting on make-up, or a mask
It usually is, a parent’s task.
Kids will dress up, go door to door
They get candy, and want some more.
“Trick or treat”, you will hear them say
Saying ”thank you”, and walk away.
The children ask, “Can I eat one”?
You know darn well, they’ll eat a ton.
“Only one”, the reply will be
“Dinners waiting at home, you see”.
Witches, cowboys, a ghost or clown
The children walk, all over town.
Bags are filled, with a yummy treat
By night’s end, many tired feet.
Getting home, their bedtime is near
Knowing now there’s, nothing to fear.
Halloween night, has come and gone
It’ll be back, before too long.
My 11 year old daughter had to write a poem for one
of her classes.This is her first one.She got a pencil and
paper and sat down and this is what she wrote.And the
talent continues.
It's Christmas day, and the children hesitate, then slide
down the stairs, they just can't wait. The cookies are
crumbs, the milk is gone, and there's crystalline snow
on the front lawn. The turkey is stuffed, the potatoes
mashed, and the children are eager to get the presents
unwrapped. They thought Saint Nick would never betray
them, as they look at the presents, an abundant amount
beside the tree stem. On this pleasant day, Jesus was born,
"There shall be no sins!" Jesus had sworn. So we're all
thankful, for what he has done. But people had hung him,
out in the hot sun. But all that's behind, don't recollect.
Be happy, raise your attitude, don't even fret. It's
Christmas day, and the children are wholesome. One
little girl is eating a plum. It's time for bed, at 8 in the
night, the dusk of Christmas is a beautiful sight.
Written By Megan Devon Bono
Look at the blazing sun.
The children seem to be having a lot of fun.
Inside my heart you look like a phantom.
Outside this world you look like Jasmine.
I can't deny I saw your face in the crowd as I saw all the children run.
sitting on a
new york city stoop
painted red
just below a darkened
railroad apartment
2 bedrooms / 5 people
1069
autumn has fallen
no trees grow within concrete sidewalks
to notice /
winter whispers
long wind rhyme
cold
across a late evening
windows are lit
walking in time
a poet begins his crawl
across my mind
as a boy
doesn’t believe in believing
there is death and war
in my eyes
and so deeply he sighs
long wind rhyme
i sit
lost within a street-lamp
shadow
drifting
light shifting
looking for reason
in a season
where children dare to believe
suddenly
1976
death and war
still a loud echo
in my tries
yet
in my eyes
whispers the breath
of a child
within the shadow
of christmas tree lights
softly bleeding her sighs
in a season
where children dare to believe
in a poet’s find
adrift
within a man’s mind.
-w. jude aher
Splashes and laughs of children are heard
Under the shade of the oak tree is where they go to escape the hot sun rays
Mommies fixing up lemonade for thirsty little tongues
Many a moon these happy days last
Engorged with joy and giggles these days are
Radiant little children are rejoicing for these days
for me, is but a time
when all my children lose their lime;
their pointy fingers start to rust,
and scatter round like aimless dust.
for me, is loneliness
and thoughts of worshipping Her less-
my children, bound by Her decree,
innately loose themselves from me.
for me, is caustic thoughts
of how my children flailed and fought
to mute commands from heartless wind
that tolls when bonded limbs must rend.
for me, is presence spent
without the warmth of their content-
my children tossed into the fire
against my motherly desire.
for me, is paper pain
with somber wind and hazel rain,
the counting of my children lost-
three months before the deadening frost.
for me, is dead rebirth,
the loss of life to save my worth-
my former children swept by fate;
though more, my mistress shall create.