Kids Simple Poems | Examples
These Kids Simple poems are examples of Simple poems about Kids. These are the best examples of Simple 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
It wouldn't be the first time
we said goodbye.
It wouldn't be the last time
You made me cry.
All that I want is gone
you left me here to die.
All that I've longed for is gone
you never said goodbye
It should have been the last thing you ever did
You slit my wrists and stole my kids.
LET ME GO! I DONT WANT TO STAY HERE
LET ME OUT! OF THE SPELL IM UNDER
TAKE ME OUT! FROM THIS CAGE IM UNDER
would be the second time you ever lied
then you picked me up and took me for a ride.
Happiness is really simple
I get up in the evening
My wife and I having coffee
Having dinner with the kids
And I go to work in the Call Center
Then I work at a Call Center
Returning home in the morning
My wife and I are having breakfast
We are drinking tea. And I go to sleep.
Apples, apricot, blackberries, biscuits
Children ! Cheese cake, donuts, dozen drumsticks
Enjoy eating : Food for friends - fellow , fun !
Got guava- grapes ? Have hotdog honey- bun.
Irish Ice-cream ! Jam - jelly , juice in jar.
Jack, Jill, Junior John , jubilant joker !
knife in kitchen : Kids in knickerbocker.
Lying lazy lovely little lizard :
Laughing loud lion -lioness - leopard.
Micro- macro- minimal-maximal
New- naval-nascent ! Oblate or oval ?
Ostrich offered old owl, olive - orange !
Proud peacock playing prompt pretty plumage.
Quiet queen : Rabbit runs, restless rapid.
Swift squirrel ! Soft snail showing so slow speed.
Top topples ! Uncle under umbrella !
Vintage vehicle visits village - villa.
Wow ! Wonderful ! World wide website was won.
Yellow yak yawned in zing at zig- zag zone .
Bike to ramp and from ramp to tree
In just a second you can feel the hit
Hanging midair is a time of glee
Adrenaline rush with teeth a’grit
Grasping his precious jewels
The tens unit clung
Crank that cruel switch to eleven so
His unborn kids will know he was stung
A blindfolded face, cigarette tastes,
Tighty-whities, and a Big Mac burger,
A boxing glove hits a fragile place
So he screamed that his meat was murdered
Hot sauce dares with a barren gut
The bottle beckons, its all for good fun
Capsaicin will rain hell upon his you know what
Chug the demon’s drizzle and the damage is done
Office chair races down a favorite hill
Speeding down through memory lane
On my way towards a hefty dentist bill but
Jackassery is always worth the pain
Rock fights in mud is a childish leisure
With a soundtrack of chuckles and thuds
Growing up simple and hollow is a pleasure
When your friends are a bundle of duds
I’m in the doctor’s office – so boring
waiting as usual since rarely
do doctors meet with patients on time.
We patients can be treated so unfairly.
Our time is just as valuable as theirs is,
but do doctors take that into account?
However I am so pleased when I find
some magazines – a fairly large amount!
I’m thrilled to see the magazines for women
and not just ones on sports or politics.
I see magazines that most men hate.
There are some for kids too. A delicious mix!
I grab two up: one of them with health tips.
The other one about celebrities.
This simple pleasure I have little time for
at home, but now I’m reading here with ease.
I’m quite enjoying an article
on European diets – at my leisure.
My name is then called out. It figures!
NOW they want to interrupt my pleasure.
Feb. 7, 2023
For Julia Ward's A Simple Pleasure Poetry Contest
We all must travel on it.
Day in and day out.
It can be an easy-going and laid-back feeling.
Or a hard and rough outing.
We all have traveled on it as kids and adults.
It could have been with family or friends or by yourself.
That meaningful relationship or that ugly one that didn't last.
Day in and day out we use it.
It is in our life every day.
It goes with us to work or play, on vacation or just a regular day.
It's here for us in every season.
In hot summer nights or cold winter days.
In raining afternoons or breeze evenings.
With a nice car or that beat up box but it is with us each day and yes, every night too.
It has lived a long life and yet will outlive us all to see what the future holds for it.
It has seen the past and live in the present.
It will see the future as well long after our children's, children are gone.
It has seen far more of the world then most of us have in every country there is one.
For only if it could tell us all its stories would we know what has come and yet to come.
In a simple way it is simply seen more than us but I call it The Road.
Sitting on my front porch
Watching the world go by
Looking back at a simpler time
Remembering the simple things
All the simple joys of childhood
The love of family and friends.
Thinking that now I am grown
All my kids are grown and happy
Grand kids born and growing
Seeing me in them hoping
That one day they sit back
Remembering all the simple joys.
Ya boo and fiddlesticks
to the thorns of life and all that pricks.
Ya boo, too, ye plutocrats
who treat the rest like worthless rats.
Fiddlesticks to ivory towers
where boffins sport their mental powers,
deeming themselves to be omniscient
and lesser minds somewhat deficient.
Give me the simple things of life,
these to share with kids and wife.
They talk to me… I take no interest
For I like not their likes…
When I talk to them--- about angels, and heavens,
And about life, magic and things I like
They listen not
And the boasters, like parrots
Start praising their minds…
And talk of trivial things
Like brands, latest fashion, new model cars and their favorite cigarette
They seems impressed of themselves
And tell me in hidden words, how better they are than I
For they understand the world and know life's art
I smile on their faces, but laugh at them in my heart…
They know not the truth of life
Or they ignore the cry of Truth
And turn a blind Eye towards the Reality
Or may be it’s a parallel universe
they are living in
In my world, Moon has strains
And flowers wilt young
kids play with the debris of their wrecked houses
Mothers bury the empty coffins of their dead sons
Sons wait for their murdered fathers to bring them food
And dughters wipe mothers' tears with their torn clothes
How can I celebrate this life...??
They do...
They must have got a different world
(~Paghunda)
He was born in the Georgia clay
drank sweet tea everyday
It was rise and shine at the crack of dawn
as the rooster sang his song
Milk the cows and bale the hay
buttermilk was on the way
Fetch the eggs from the coop
look at that chicken poop
Tend the garden and shell the peas
on the porch, feel the breeze
he butter, wring the bird
headless chicken, have you heard
Pressure cooker’s blowing steam
it's taboo to touch that thing
Canning veggies was the norm
no TV in a storm
Dry the apples for the pies
slice the taters for the fries
Work all day till the sun went down
then pass the moonshine around
Kids today can't relate
think they'd ever pull their weight
Take their phones and watch them moan
think they've had home-grown
Simple days, baling hay
catching chickens is how they played
Once a week they would all get together
that of course depended on the weather
Water, water, rippling down my morning shower,
Just the right temp – a pleasing thing.
The snore of a little dog to comfort
During a midnight bad dream.
Simple happenings.
The smell of coffee, the pop of toast;
Classic songs on the radio;
A neighbor’s “hi”, dew on my face;
A creaking door, loving this old place.
Simple sounds.
A cloud forming the face of a friend on high;
The ferns grew another inch last night;
No air conditioning needed this day;
Laughing kids with just one more day to play.
Simple sights,
Then when life tells you you have needs to settle
For the humble ways, without complications,
And let quarrelers quarrel and frowners frown;
You opt for peace without limitation.
In Favor of Simplicity
You want me to think simple,
In a simple and fun-loving way
Often I heard your voice in the other room
The laughter of kids, giggling along
Often I force myself
To try to think in a fun-loving way
I could not.
Growing up gets in and lets in
In a somewhat tragic way.
I see laughter, beauty, and simplicity of little ones
And I see you, laughing and growing old day by day.
I bid my simplicity farewell, there.
And simplicity is sometimes a dormant form
Of the absence of thinking or bypassing too much.
We approached the bridge, and the rest is the call of time.
The utmost drug of life is appreciation , after all.
Days of my youth so long ago,
seems like it never happened.
things were so simple, not
hard to understand.
Most of my friends have
passed on, no one to
talk with about those
simple days.
We had respect
for our elders, even if we
didn't agree with them.
Simple in our walk and
things we did. World
was a different place then,
than it is now.
Kids didn't go to
school to kill their
peers.
We feared our teachers
and obeyed them, we had
to or we would get smacked.
Parents spanked their kids in
public, without fear of
child abuse.
The days of when things
were simple wll never be
again and time marches on.
"A few simple words"
In a moment I was born,
In a moment I'll die.
I looked up to a face,
and asked him why.
He told me we're here,
for a short time to live.
To be caring and loving,
and raise up our kids.
To try to do good,
however we can.
To pick yourself up,
when you've been kicked down.
To Wipe yourself off,
keep your feet on the ground.
To do your very best,
the very best you can do.
Is all I'll ever expect of you.
By
Trip Johnson