Kay wanted a hippopotamus
for Christmas,
nothing else would do,
her family bore the witness.
She did not want a fancy doll
or a fuzzy teddy bear,
She did not want a frilly dress
or sparkles for her hair.
Santa crossed the isthmus
with water on both sides,
he found the mighty river horse*
and shrank it down in size.
Santa made his run
on snowy Christmas Eve,
Placed the beast below the tree
and turned around to leave.
Little Kay was standing there
wiping sleep away,
She hugged pink hippo very tight and knew
her life would once again be gay**
* "hippopotamus" comes from Greek words meaning "river horse".
**”gay” meaning “lighthearted and carefree”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, look! The Wump wears polka-dot socks.
It tap-dances swirls on peppermint rocks!
Its belly jiggles like jelly on spoons,
While whistling loony, balloon-tune croons.
One foot hops east, the other foot west,
It juggles twelve pies (but drops all the rest).
The townsfolk giggle, the lampposts sway,
As the Wump cartwheels over the Milky Way.
With a flibbertigibbet and zoodle-zoo,
It winks—then gets stuck on sparkly glittery superglue!
What I love about school?
School is… yea.
Through trench-like conditions,
where survival is suffocating.
On the outside, education is key.
On the inside, it is an episode
from the last day on earth, where popularity determines your success in school,
not how smart or educated you are.
But… there are those rainy days,
when we huddle up in groups like little penguins, seeking warmth, connection, feeling.
Those days are nice. Comforting.
dreams of falling snow
on the eve of Christmas morn
~ magic in the air
AP: 1st place 2025
On a twilight night in November’s glow..
soft-star winds began to blow.
A whispered spell swept ’cross the skies..
The universe opened its silver eyes.
At 8:40pm, the veil grew thin..
Letting a precious new soul step in.
On the 14th November 2025..
The world was gifted when you arrived.
Harry James Churchill, pure and bright..
Born of stardust, wrapped in light.
At 8.6 lbs, strong and sweet..
With 51 centimetres from head to feet.
Evan and Kayla, hearts aglow..
Hold magic only parents know.
Their pride now shimmers warm and true..
For dreams they wished have now come through.
Welcome, dear Harry, to earth’s embrace..
A brand-new story, a sacred place.
May joy surround you all your days..
May love light up your life always.
Grow bold, grow kind, grow brave and wise..
Chase dreams that glitter in the skies.
And know this always, little man..
You’re cherished deeply..
from your loving Nan.
Let us awaken the child within
~ with whom we are never without
…religion, and oh boy…
The trouble with religion, and boy do I know it, is that getting too close to the dogma is like basking in the sun. It feels good, and self righteousness is the opiate of fundamentalist cults. Round and round the merry-go-round, discussions turning into arguments that either begin or end with "God said so." “God said it, and I believe it.” Or, with cult MAGA "Trump said it, so I know I'm right.” It numbs one to reality. Rationalization may last hours, but it always ends this way.
But, like exposure to the sun, you may get cancer, the cancer of reason gone wild. No longer anchored in known facts, but on an ever expanding blockage of the truth behind the tumor of dogmatic cultism.
See, it took years to heal my mind. I felt that I was guilty somehow of leaving the herd, of even thinking that this was all a grift dressed up in Bible verses. Now, I know what I truly believe and that is that I know nothing.
Show some pen, friend
Write a note, poet
Don't be a crude, dude
It was her fate, mate
Go let it out, scout
Don't be so coy, boy
You're not a bad, lad
You loved someone, son
You loved your prissy, missy
She was a dead, head
She born a wild, child
She used to cope, dope
And now she gone, Maan
Write to her mother, brother
Show some pen, friend
Just write a note, poet
Oh, how it drew me in, that magic ball-
When Grandma let me hold it long ago.
I cupped my hands to shake it up a bit,
And all at once, it filled with swirling snow!
The snowflakes settled neath a bright blue sky-
And on a tiny church and village, too.
There, standing in the middle, were two deer
Staring at me with love, so sweet and true.
Each time I went to Grandma's house, for sure-
After I hugged and kissed her, there I'd run
To shake it gently so it came alive,
And with the deer told stories to each one.
So like a tiny world, made just for me!
Oh, how it drew me in, that magic ball!
Though much has faded over many years,
This memory still glows in my recall.
Child and a cupcake
Shall I take it
Quite the challenge
Looks scrumptious
When she turns, I’ll take it
Hoping she turns fast
Then it’s my turn to take it
Yayyyyy
Yummy.
My giddy girl bowed to pray.
Please God, would it be okay?
Send tropical snow this year.
Freeze the sun that I can cheer,
"White Christmas!", our anthem true,
Powdered ice cakes on Mom's shoe.
A daughter can help you find important things when you need them
Things like your smile, your hope & your lost souls rhythm
Having a daughter in your life is something to truly treasure
Her absence would break times
every measure
A thick, glass globe
Sat on display
One must not touch
It’s not for play
But seven years
Had made me wise
I’d witnessed magic
With my own eyes
A Christmas film
Or shopping mall
While others shook
I watched in awe
But in my den
It sat, perched high
A ball of joy
To catch one’s eye
Far from reach
It tempted me
One day I climbed
Just to see
I vowed to view
An inch away
I would not touch
It’s not for play
But as I neared
The seventh shelf
My fingers brushed
Across my elf
In that moment
All magic died
For he was plastic
With painted eyes
He was bought
From the store
I saw the spot
His tag was tore
I believed him real
Until that day
When I found out
It’s just for play
Tiny heartbeats resonate with mine with every breath taken in unison --
You dwell in me as much as I in you.
Sweet summer child mine, I don't know any different than to be yours -
The world loved you at first sight while I fell the moment I felt you in me.
I closed my eyes for a second
The next thing I know, you are a man.
I can remember from day one.
When the journey began
I ask How did you grow so fast.
It's so hard to remember the past.
From baby, to teenager, to man
You are now living your dream.
You are now a family man.
All along, you had that special plan.
You now have your own sons and wife.
Inside, I knew you always had that special drive.
Deep down, I know your time has finally arrived.
I always knew what kind of man you would become.
I never had any doubt about you in my life.
I guess to this day I will always.
Ask myself how you ever grew up so fast.
My son
Specific Types of Child Poems
Read wonderful child poetry on the following sub-topics:
beautiful, educate, family, father, funny, halloween, life, love, lyric, monster, mother, parents, scary, song, toys
and more.
Definition | What is Child in Poetry?
Poems Related to Child
adolescent, baby, brat, children, infant, innocent, juvenile, kid, kiddie, kids, minor, newborn, nursery rhymes, offspring, preteen, teen, teenager, teenybopper, toddler, whippersnapper, youngster, youth