Long Kindergarten Poems

Long Kindergarten Poems. Below are the most popular long Kindergarten by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kindergarten poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member They Strike Terror In My Soul

I am an elementary school counselor.
Everyone else shuns the sixth graders, they are my pals.
They are the ones I know the best, we have the same humor.
We laugh at the same raunchy jokes,
Although some I have to pretend I do not hear.

I like my day, it is so much fun; every day different.
I glide through it, laughing and playing, in a child-like, happy way.
Until I get a phone call or emergency text from Room 145Z.
Laughter stops. My smile runs off and hides in a corner.
I pretend to be sick, running for the bathroom, clutching my mouth.

I have a walkie talkie. I get paged six ways to enlightenment.
My boss comes to find me; she is the principal. I have to go.
Jumping off a cliff into a murder of crows being killed by wolves
would be more desirable.

I open the door and enter. 
They are all over the place, screaming and yelling.
Under tables, screeching and snarling. Spitting and kicking.
"Thank you! " the teacher says. "I will be right back."
Six or seven come up to me and tug on my clothes.
I use the kindest softest voice I have ever mustered.
Two run off screaming and crying because I hurt their feelings.
Sixteen run up to tattle on others.
One pulls my hair to see if it is red all the way to the root.
Another throws up on my shirt.
I have been here what, two hours?
I look at the clock.

Where is she? 
She comes running back in. "Thank you!" she says. "I really had to go."
I'll say.
She was gone two minutes.
I am terrified of room 145Z, the kindergarten class.


Premium Member Shining Star

shines a face from faraway past - twinkling eyes,
 softest smile, silky hair ....
 a stylish hat, gorgeous shoes, even a glittering pendant.
 so perfect ...holds my hand tight, dances a fairy-dance,
 listens to stories with unperturbed attention...
 dream of a teacher!

 in kindergarten, surrounded by angels,
 all shine like the dazzling stars in illuminated sky,
 one face ...doesn’t have words to express herself,
 not that she does mind.

 as cheerful and chirpy as a parrot,
 she utters something, with confidence,
 does it make sense to the world?
 wonder how the languages were created,
 wonder...those signs.. who invented!

 this tiny girl, floats like a sailboat, 
 no care in the world touches her,
 has created her own language,
 she tells everything she feels,
 it’s we, as much as we try, don’t understand. 



                                         April 15, 2021
                                          FIRST PLACE
                      For Writing Prompt "Shine" Poetry Contest
                            Sponsor: Constance La France

Premium Member Saunderson and Sarenson

Saunderson and Sarenson
Friends in kindergarten. 

Saunderson and Sarenson
Supporters of each other through senior high

Saunderson and Sarenson
Vowing to be friends to the end

Saunderson and Sarenson
Twenty-two year olds who both fall in love with Piggly Pie

Saunderson and Sarenson
Angry ex-friends who become jealous and suspicious now

Saunderson and Sarenson
Enemies when Piggly Pie chooses neither due to their feuding ways

Saunderson and Sarenson
No longer friends, lifelong bachelors living next door to each other

Saunderson and Sarenson
Lifelong enemies, blaming each other, not speaking

Saunderson and Sarenson
Dying on the same day, alone and friendless.

Premium Member Friendships Of Gold

Way back, when I was about six years old 
In kindergarten, I met my first friend 
Never knew our friendship would be so gold 
You can't predict when a friendship will end 

I've had many friends that have come and gone 
Some moved, some became foes, some sadly died 
Some friendships just keep on going on and on 
My first friend- has always been by my side 

Now in our sixties, still friends- all these years 
Last night, in a pub, out in bad weather 
We reminisced while with both sipped our beers
We toasted to- "We've grown old together" 

We'll always be friends 'till one of us dies 
Teardrops will fall on our final...good-byes 


Our friendship is gold 
Many stories to be told 
We're both growing old
Form: Sonnet

Purple and Red

A kindergarten memory
I have is very strong
And no one can corroborate
Or prove that I am wrong.

We’re gluing shapes to paper
And two colors we could use.
I look at all the choices
When deciding which to choose.

I proudly pick the purple
And to go with it, the red.
My teacher, though, suggests
I switch to red and blue instead.

Her reasoning is simply that
My colors do not match.
As I remember it, she felt
She’d saved me with her catch.

Imagine if I’d had the guts
To stick with what I liked.
Perhaps when projects came my way
I might’ve been more psyched.

By nullifying what I chose
The teacher, I think, fails,
For all she did was knock the wind
Right out from ‘neath my sails.

An artist I will never be – 
Those skills I don’t possess.
Yet red and purple still look good
Together, I profess.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member 1st Grade With Miss Harvison At Thatcher Elementary

1st Grade With Miss Harvison at Thatcher Elementary 
David Walker 

I
Miss Harvison’s smile greeted each taker of
An assigned seat of big kids desks 
in our very first First Grade class 
at Thatcher Elementary 
It was early in September after a 
Long summer and a 
Successful year of half-day kindergarten 
The beginning of numbered grades 
All in a row
12 years was my first glimpse of forever 
II
Miss Harvison was no taller than the 
Tallest boys among us 
And I was proudly one among them 
Gray hair and pale blue eyes 
Thin with the skin of an aging angel 
She made learning fun
She made us want to come
For another chapter of Dick & Jane 
And adding numbers 
III
Miss Harvison never married 
But by 1960 knew 50 years of children 
She was 25 when she first arrived
And had her first 30 in a 
Baptism of fire 
She knew everyone 
by name and by heart
It was the start of a life-long 
love affair with teaching and learning
IV
Miss Harvison has always lived in the 
Memories of a thousand and a half 
Half-pints seated in neat rows  
The children who became her students 
Her treasures 
	Her measures of a meaningful life

Taking Off My Demon Shoes

Firstly the alligator belt has to go.
The highly polished pearl handled pistol
should not be on my slim hips 
in a kindergarten.
I’m swearing of sugar and rum.
Blue suede shoes were never that cool anyway,
I have left several pairs at the back of a thrift shop
with a five dollar bill.
Wearing shades in February is not working for me anymore.
I’ve taken off the tassels of my dude cowboy shirt.
I have moved into Ohio
filling every available space with my yellowing soul;
have filed my fangs down to the size of gummy bears.
We (my huge prosthetic breasts and I),
have joined a Pentecostal church
and now babble eloquently in an angelic tongue
only fully known to rabid squirrels.
Constant prayer has turned my **** eruptions
into pure helium
and am now gainfully employed blowing up party balloons 
in a local Dollar Store.
When the good Lord calls me I will be found
balancing precariously on the head of a pin
at last fully masked and surgically prepared for 
my heavenly colonoscopy.

Premium Member We Are the Kindergarteners

We are leaping and peeping and laughing and clapping.
A fun day for sure, and there has been no slapping.
We are the kindergarteners, a mighty throng.
We are cheering and yelling, one is singing a song.
 
Our play dough is gone; we let it dry up completely.
We have smeared down the tables with glue, rather neatly.
We live to paint, each other, our hands, and one guy his toes.
We are all together in this, a unit in giant happy big throes.
 
Our teacher comes in all perky and young, cute to the max.
When we leave out at night she looks like she has been sitting on tacks.
We are leaping and peeping and cackling and mooing.
Jake is in the corner, yelling “Uncle,” and Sally is boo-hooing.
 
Our teacher is showing someone how to take a reading test.
Another teacher, we do not like, is trying to make the rest of us rest.
We are leaping and peeking and pretending we do not understand.
We are the kindergarteners, and one of us has a live snake in his hand.
fun
Form: Rhyme

Under the Weeping Willow Tree

Under The Weeping Willow

I saw you when we were kids
Playing with blocks on the kindergarten floor
We grew up
You became a beauty
I became a geek
I never had the never had the nerve to talk to you
Then we met

Under the weeping willow down on the shores of the river
We met, we held hands and we kissed
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in happiness
We had found the love we both wanted

I proposed and we wed 
Promising to share our lives from then on
Never to part
I saw the love in your eyes
The geek married the beauty
And the rest of our lives began

Under the weeping will down on the shores of the river
We shared our vows
The rings shined on our finger
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in happiness
We had found the forever we both wanted

Our baby was born on a summer day
The sun was warm and the breeze gentle
She was named willow
And she smiled at the sun shining through the leaves
She loves her mother and father
All the love in the world could be seen in her eyes

Under the weeping will down on the shores of the river
We were the perfect family
A beautiful little girl with a future of love ahead
She brought pure happiness into our lives
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in happiness
We had found the family we both wanted

That winter the love of my life died
She went to sleep
She answered God's call
All her prayers would be answered
I am sure that she was welcomed to Heaven
And given a beautiful pair of wings

Under the weeping will down on the shores of the river
I laid her body to rest
A beautiful love that will last forever
She is smiling because she was loved
That old weeping willow shed its tears
The willow's tears that flowed in sadness
The love of my life was gone
Form: Lyric

Last Time Forever

A mother’s loving look at her newborn child,
Never able to relive that moment again.
For it’s the last time forever.

Walking into kindergarten for the first time,
Feeling so alone and afraid, don’t fear
For it’s the last time forever.

Kneeling in prayer as you are born again,
Living as a sinner no longer,
For it’s the last time forever.

Walking across stage on graduation night,
Nervous because it’s your last few steps as a “child”,
For it’s the last time forever.

Praying to God to help you jump the hurdles,
Seeing prayers being answered, never doubt
For it’s NOT the last time forever.
Form:

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