Kids Couplet Poems | Examples
These Kids Couplet poems are examples of Couplet poems about Kids. These are the best examples of Couplet Kids poems written by international poets.
cops come in
crime goes down
it comes right back
when cops leave town
a simple equation
all kids comprehend
but not elites ~
sheepskins in hand
Instead of acting like you’re in mourning
With a smiling face, just say good morning
Instead of walking around with a frown
Just be happy without being a clown
Kids don’t need for your tales to be gory
Why not share with them, a funny story
No need to go on about your ex-wife
Say something humorous about your life
To break the ice so that others will laugh
This morning, I woke up, clothed in the bath
Once I learned I’d have to pay for my sins
Today I see there’s not a sin that’s not ‘in’
Once I was told to respect every teacher
Today a teacher’s the lowest of creatures
Once the US flag was a source of pride
Today it only serves to divide
Once girls admired a ‘man in uniform’
Today they seek out ‘singular unicorns’
Once teens practiced ‘making conversation’
Today they can’t talk, they’re texting sensations...
Did everything die; is nothing sacred anymore
Well, kids still ask parents for money
~ only today a whole lot more
SIX WOMEN PATIENTS
Six broken women lay down to rest
brown bodies all in a row
six long stories to tell with jest
six smiles with a million tears
race around ward releasing fears
just so
Six windows uncurtained offers
six sunny acacias buffered
trolleys reel, pills and bottles steep
surgeon makes his rounds with a nod
six students in tow
asking six silly questions to know
just so
Six hard beds high, sigh-slept many
linen stiff as a new penny
squishy meal of mieliepap mixed veggies
making six quite edgy
whose next for operation table no-one knows
they can though still touch their toes
just so
six sets of eyes close for night
dream of kids, chicken pie, golden flights
needles, nurses, morphine gone
no slips on escalator or hip joint pain
they reconnect their own wires, abiding fires
flowing into Aegian sea as African queens
awake back in ward, still here
wee patients not free, see ?
Matron says ‘Go pee’
just so
12k, 7.46 mile race from the SF Bay to the Pacific Ocean
They start at the Bay near downtown San Francisco,
And they 'Break" at the great highway by the sea
Oftentimes, exiting my front door was just a notion
The ocean was blocks from where they started,
And the chilly waters of the Pacific never departed
May times we would simply sit in the sand and stare
Sometimes, the kids played in the sand in the cool air
The 'Breakers' broke near my door steps
and headed East, North, and South.
Oh what relief they always felt
with the increase of their self-worth
And I was pleased that they had ran
and finished their 12K race
‘Here come some more of them
Plenty of little kids too
Time to put on our funny faces
Entertain them for a while’
‘Chase each other round and round
Make lots of high-pitched sounds
Swing from vine to vine, almost falling
Miraculous recoveries our signature calling’ ...
Like clowns in a circus, they put on quite a show
Yet what’s in a monkey’s heart, no one really knows
Written By: D. Collins 2/15/25
We all did grime to survive back in the day.
Some go caught up, while some of us got away.
I place no judgement on whatever it takes to eat.
By Any Means Necessary, put toys under the tree.
Back in the day snitches didn't exist.
A bid in Angola was a slap on the wrist.
You just come out the way you went in.
A man amongst the most ruthless of men.
And, if repetition is what puts food on your plate.
Do what you do, just like back in the day.
How they live uptown is how you strive to live.
And, whatever it takes, a man feeds his kids.
Rebecca was three years old when Isaac took her for a wife
Nineteen years later, no children, but still pro-life
Finally pregnant, Rebecca’s joy was short-lived, with twins inside
tossing and turning tumultuously in the embryo of Isaac’s bride
Rachel heard of this and learned her lesson
Meeting Jacob at age five, her brother Laban said: ‘No messin’
Seven years (and one week) later, they finally got hitched
Thoughts of kids at five, ‘unceremoniously’ ditched
The highlights of the Jersey Shore
like a bone beach, they were no more
along with the loved Ferris Wheel
that kids looked forward to with zeal.
The sounds of music, loud and clear
along the boardwalk, all would hear,
and to the Wheel, the kids would run;
for generations- had such fun.
Most kids and grandkids knew the thrill-
that Wheel spun round- was never still.
Until one day, Two-Thousand-Twelve,
the old-time joys would then be shelved.
When "Sandy Superstorm" arrived
not much within the park survived.
The sound of kids and music stopped-
with roars of wind and sea were swapped.
The howls of wind did make their rounds,
replacing joyous, happy sounds;
made a bone beach of storm debris-
that moaned and groaned for all to see.
This famous park's old Ferris Wheel
that kids looked forward to with zeal
the highlights of the Jersey Shore-
like a bone beach- they were no more.
As a father I’ve failed
I should have been jailed
My kids are not happy
The blame’s on their pappy
I pushed them too hard
left them with scars
On the surface they’re fine
underneath they are cryin’
If I only could've seen
what the future would’ve been
I’d have taken my foot off the pedal
and never have meddled
I'd have left things to mom
to the one who was calm
Instead of asserting myself
I'd have watched from the shelf...
But now I’m old and at home
and nearly alone
My kids, out of touch
I miss them so much
Encouragement works wonders
Senseless punishment ~ a fateful blunder
“Conversation with my eight year old Granddaughter twenty one years ago.
She is still different and I still have the famed four leaf clover” ~~The Poet~~
It’s got extra Grandma, look at this clover.
It’s the only one, I looked over and over.
This one really did stand right out.
Just like you were telling me about.
It’s good to be different, that’s what you say.
It makes it better for me to feel OK.
It makes me feel like I have a magic wand,
When the kids treat me like a real dumb blond.
I am different, even if I cant work out 97 by two.
There are things I can do that they can’t do.
Lets frame this clover sweet Granddaughter,
Oh no Grandma, it will die without water.
You picked it so it will die anyway,
A frame will preserve it longer than a day.
Thank you, Wind, for sitting with me -
A most uncommon interviewee.
Glad to help, won't you take good notes,
So that you may avoid misquotes?
Sure, I think that would be a crime.
Tell our readers how you spend time.
I love to travel everywhere,
So many places I move the air.
I have pushed ships across the sea
To new lands of opportunity.
I caress folks' faces and skin.
So they feel good outside and in.
I convey smells of fresh baked bread,
Jasmine flowers and roses, red,
The happy shouts of kids at play,
And singing birds to start the day.
Do you ever find that you get bored?
Are there more pastimes you've explored?
I make ladies' hair come undone.
I swiftly rustle skirts for fun.
I blow a hat off of a head.
I'll make a field goal miss instead.
Sometimes, when I get furious,
I'm a cyclone, injurious.
Thanks Wind, I've enjoyed our meeting.
This will be engaging reading.
And so, the interview ended.
Notes on which the piece depended,
Placed on the cafe table, unbound,
Were blown here, there, and all around,
As the interviewer was taught,
The Wind's a guy who can't be caught.
With an impulsive cognizance of the mother instinct
In physique and psyche, with her lambs, she's lovingly linked.
Her head-butting, as though she looks furious, does not hurt.
Her bleat is rhythmic, like a harmonious bass concert.
Like a mom lauds her kids, to lambs the ewe show her love.
As human spirits, is an ewe's soul, sent from above?
Cultures, religions, histories, and theologies praise
Of her flesh, blood, and veins, the science artfully portrays
Symbol of life that flows from human-divine alertness
Isn't there, in an ewe, a unique peacefulness?
Harmony of wily innocence and witty shrewdness
O ewe! You're a magnum opus of divine fullness.
Every so often the kids passed a pasture
Where a divine farmer kept his sheep
One night they crooked themselves in
While the farmer was fast asleep
They rolled with the grassy hillside
Onto the gates of his wooly pen
With the cover of darkness helping
Except for a noisy noisy mother hen
She cackled louder, louder and louder
And their plans began to sweat
Still, they roped a baby lamb
That would soon become their pet
When their fleeing tiptoes met a hitch
And the farmer appeared before their eyes
He preached he'd sacrifice his baby lamb
If they pray for their sins and hear God's cries