Kids Famous Poems

Allie By Robert Graves Allie, call the birds in,  The birds from the sky.  Allie calls, Allie sings,  Down they all fly.  First there came  Two white doves  Then a sparrow from his nest,  Then a clucking bantam hen,  Then a robin red-breast.  Allie, call the beasts in,  The beasts, every one.  Allie calls, Allie sings,  In they all run.  First there came  Two black lambs,  Then a grunting Berkshire sow,  Then a dog without a tail,  Then a red and white cow.  Allie, call the fish up,  The fish from the stream.  Allie calls, Allie sings,  Up they all swim.  First there came  Two gold fish,  A minnow and a miller's thumb,  Then a pair of loving trout,  Then the twisted eels come.  Allie, call the children,  Children from the green.  Allie calls, Allie sings,  Soon they run in.  First there came ...

Prairie-Dog Town By Mary Hunter Austin Old Peter Prairie-dog  Builds him a house  In Prairie-Dog Town,  With a door that goes down  And down and down,  And a hall that goes under  And under and under,  Where you can't see the lightning,  You can't hear the thunder,  For they don't like thunder  In Prairie-Dog Town.  Old Peter Prairie-Dog  Digs him a cellar  In Prairie-Dog Town,  With a ceiling that is arched  And a wall that is round,  And the earth he takes out he makes into a mound.  And the hall and the cellar  Are dark as dark,  And you can't see a spark,  Not a single spark;  And the way to them cannot be found.  Old Peter Prairie-Dog  Knows a very clever trick  Of behaving like a stick  When he hears a sudden sound,  Like an old dead stick;  And when you turn your head  He'll jump quick, quick,  And be a...

Bed In Summer By Robert Louis Stevenson  In Winter I get up at night  And dress by yellow candle light.  In Summer, quite the other way,  I have to go to bed by day.  I have to go to bed and see  The birds still hopping on the tree,  Or hear the grown-up people's feet  Still going past me in the street.  And does it not seem hard to you,  When all the sky is clear and blue,  And I should like so much to play,  To have to go to bed by day?

Won't You? By Shel Silverstein Barbara's eyes are blue as azure,  But she is in love with Freddy.  Karen's sweet, but Harry has her.  Gentle Jane is going steady.  Carol hates me. So does May.  Abigail will not be mine.  Nancy lives too far away...  Won't you be my Valentine?

Rathers By Mary Hunter Austin I know very well what I'd rather be  If I didn't always have to be me!  I'd rather be an owl,  A downy feathered owl,  A wink-ity, blink-ity, yellow-eyed owl  In a hole in a hollow tree.  I'd take my dinner in chipmunk town,  And wouldn't I gobble the field mice down,  If I were a wink-ity, blink-ity owl,  And didn't always have to be me!  I know very well what I'd like to do  If I didn't have to do what I do!  I'd go and be a woodpecker,  A rap-ity, tap-ity, red-headed woodpecker  In the top of a tall old tree.  And I'd never take a look  At a lesson or a book,  And I'd scold like a pirate on the sea,  If I only had to do what I like to do,  And didn't always have to be me!  Or else I'd be an antelope,  A pronghorned antelope,  With lots of other antelope  Skimming like a cloud on a wire-grass plian.  A bound...

The Fisherman By Abbie Farwell Brown The fisherman goes out at dawn  When every one's abed,  And from the bottom of the sea  Draws up his daily bread.  His life is strange ; half on the shore  And half upon the sea --  Not quite a fish, and yet not quite  The same as you and me.  The fisherman has curious eyes ;  They make you feel so queer,  As if they had seen many things  Of wonder and of fear.  They're like the sea on foggy days, --  Not gray, nor yet quite blue ;  They 're like the wondrous tales he tells  Not quite -- yet maybe -- true.  He knows so much of boats and tides,  Of winds and clouds and sky !  But when I tell of city things,  He sniffs and shuts one eye !

Paul Revere's Ride By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Listen my children and you shall hear  Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,  On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;  Hardly a man is now alive  Who remembers that famous day and year.  He said to his friend, "If the British march  By land or sea from the town to-night,  Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch  Of the North Church tower as a signal light,-  One if by land, and two if by sea;  And I on the opposite shore will be,  Ready to ride and spread the alarm  Through every Middlesex village and farm,  For the country folk to be up and to arm."  Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar  Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,  Just as the moon rose over the bay,  Where swinging wide at her moorings lay  The Somerset, British man-of-war;  A phantom ship, with each mast and spar  Across the moon like...

If I Were King By A. A. Milne I often wish I were a King,  And then I could do anything.  If only I were King of Spain,  I'd take my hat off in the rain.  If only I were King of France,  I wouldn't brush my hair for aunts.  I think, if I were King of Greece,  I'd push things off the mantelpiece.  If I were King of Norroway,  I'd ask an elephant to stay.  If I were King of Babylon,  I'd leave my button gloves undone.  If I were King of Timbuctoo,  I'd think of lovely things to do.  If I were King of anything,  I'd tell the soldiers, "I'm the King!"

A Riddle By Christina Rossetti There is one that has a head without an eye,  And there's one that has an eye without a head.  You may find the answer if you try;  And when all is said,  Half the answer hangs upon a thread.

What Is Pink? By Christina Rossetti What is pink? A rose is pink  By the fountain's brink.  What is red? A poppy's red  In its barley bed.  What is blue? The sky is blue  Where the clouds float through.  What is white? A swan is white  Sailing in the light.  What is yellow? Pears are yellow,  Rich and ripe and mellow.  What is green? The grass is green,  With small flowers between.  What is violet? Clouds are violet  In the summer twilight.  What is orange? Why, an orange,  Just an orange!

The Moon By Robert Louis Stevenson The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;  She shines on thieves on the garden wall,  On streets and fields and harbour quays,  And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.  The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,  The howling dog by the door of the house,  The bat that lies in bed at noon,  All love to be out by the light of the moon.  But all of the things that belong to the day  Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;  And flowers and children close their eyes  Till up in the morning the sun shall arise.

The Land Of Nod By Robert Louis Stevenson From breakfast on through all the day  At home among my friends I stay,  But every night I go abroad  Afar into the land of Nod.  All by myself I have to go,  With none to tell me what to do–  All alone beside the streams  And up the mountain-sides of dreams.  The strangest things are these for me,  Both things to eat and things to see,  And many frightening sights abroad  Till morning in the land of Nod.  Try as I like to find the way,  I never can get back by day,  Nor can remember plain and clear  The curious music that I hear.

Theme In Yellow By Carl Sandburg I spot the hills  With yellow balls in autumn.  I light the prairie cornfields  Orange and tawny gold clusters  And I am called pumpkins.  On the last of October  When dusk is fallen  Children join hands  And circle round me  Singing ghost songs  And love to the harvest moon;  I am a jack-o’-lantern  With terrible teeth  And the children know  I am fooling.

I'd Love to be a Fairy's Child By Robert Graves Children born of fairy stock  Never need for shirt or frock,  Never want for food or fire,  Always get their heart's desire:  Jingle pockets full of gold,  Marry when they're seven years old.  Every fairy child may keep  Two strong ponies and ten sheep;  All have houses, each his own,  Built of brick or granite stone;  They live on cherries, they run wild--  I'd love to be a Fairy's child.

Paul Bunyan By Shel Silverstein He rode through the woods on a big blue ox,  He had fists as hard as choppin' blocks,  Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall...that's Paul.  Talk about workin', when he swung his axe  You could hear it ring for a mile and a half.  Then he'd yell "Timber!" and down she'd fall...for Paul.  Talk about drinkin', that man's so mean  That he'd never drink nothin' but kerosene,  And a five-gallon can is a little bit small...for Paul.  Talk about tough, well he once had a fight  With a thunderstorm on a cold dark night.  I ain't sayin' who won,  But it don't storm at all...round here...thanks to Paul.  He was ninety years old when he said with a sigh,  "I think I'm gonna lay right down and die  'Cause sunshine and sorrow, I've seen it all...says Paul.  He says, "There ain't no man alive can kill me,  Ain't no woman 'round can thrill me,  And I t...

Puppy And I By A. A. Milne I met a Man as I went walking:  We got talking,  Man and I.  "Where are you going to, Man?" I said  (I said to the Man as he went by).  "Down to the village, to get some bread.  Will you come with me?" "No, not I."  I met a horse as I went walking;  We got talking,  Horse and I.  "Where are you going to, Horse, today?"  (I said to the Horse as he went by).  "Down to the village to get some hay.  Will you come with me?" "No, not I."  I met a Woman as I went walking;  We got talking,  Woman and I.  "Where are you going to, Woman, so early?"  (I said to the Woman as she went by).  "Down to the village to get some barley.  Will you come with me?" "No, not I."  I met some Rabbits as I went walking;  We got talking,  Rabbits and I.  "Where are you going in your brown fur coats?"  (I said to the Rabbits as they we...

Friends By Abbie Farwell Brown How good to lie a little while  And look up through the tree!  The Sky is like a kind big smile  Bent sweetly over me.  The Sunshine flickers through the lace  Of leaves above my head,  And kisses me upon the face  Like Mother, before bed.  The Wind comes stealing o'er the grass  To whisper pretty things;  And though I cannot see him pass,  I feel his careful wings.  So many gentle Friends are near  Whom one can scarcely see,  A child should never feel a fear,  Wherever he may be.

The Rainbow By Christina Rossetti Boats sail on the rivers,  And ships sail on the seas;  But clouds that sail across the sky  Are prettier than these.  There are bridges on the rivers,  As pretty as you please;  But the bow that bridges heaven,  And overtops the trees,  And builds a road from earth to sky,  Is prettier far than these.

Teddy Bear By A. A. Milne A bear, however hard he tries,  Grows tubby without exercise.  Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,  Which is not to be wondered at;  He gets what exercise he can  By falling off the ottoman,  But generally seems to lack  The energy to clamber back.  Now tubbiness is just the thing  Which gets a fellow wondering;  And Teddy worried lots about  The fact that he was rather stout.  He thought: "If only I were thin!  But how does anyone begin?"  He thought: "It really isn't fair  To grudge me exercise and air."  For many weeks he pressed in vain  His nose against the window-pane,  And envied those who walked about  Reducing their unwanted stout.  None of the people he could see  "Is quite" (he said) "as fat as me!"  Then with a still more moving sigh,  "I mean" (he said) "as fat as I!"  Now Teddy, as was only right, ...

My Shadow By Robert Louis Stevenson I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,  And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.  He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;  And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.  The funniest things about him is the way he likes to grow-  Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;  For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India rubber ball,  And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.  He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,  And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.  He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;  I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!  One morning, very early, before the sun was up,  I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;  But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,  Had staye...

Sneezles By A. A. Milne Christopher Robin  Had wheezles  And sneezles,  They bundled him  Into  His bed.  They gave him what goes  With a cold in the nose,  And some more for a cold  In the head.  They wondered  If wheezles  Could turn  Into measles,  If sneezles  Would turn  Into mumps;  They examined his chest  For a rash,  And the rest  Of his body for swellings and lumps.  They sent for some doctors  In sneezles  And wheezles  To tell them what ought  To be done.  All sorts and conditions  Of famous physicians  Came hurrying round  At a run.  They all made a note  Of the state of his throat,  They asked if he suffered from thirst;  They asked if the sneezles  Came after the wheezles,  Or if the first sneezle  Came first.  They said, "If you teazle  A sneez...

The Mountain And The Squirrel By Ralph Waldo Emerson The mountain and the squirrel  Had a quarrel,  And the former called the latter  "Little prig."  Bun replied,  "You are doubtless very big;  But all sorts of things and weather  Must be taken in together  To make up a year  And a sphere.  And I think it no disgrace  To occupy my place.  If I'm not so large as you,  You are not so small as I,  And not half so spry:  I'll not deny you make  A very pretty squirrel track.  Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;  If I cannot carry forests on my back,  Neither can you crack a nut."

Vespers By A. A. Milne Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed, Droops on the little hands little gold head. Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares! Christopher Robin is saying his prayers. God bless Mummy. I know that's right. Wasn't it fun in the bath to-night? The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot. Oh! God bless Daddy - I quite forgot. If I open my fingers a little bit more, I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door. It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood. Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good. Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed, And pull the hood right over my head, And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small, And nobody knows that I'm there at all. Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day. And what was the other I had to say? I said "Bless Daddy," so what can it be? Oh! Now I remember it. God bless Me. Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed, Droops on the little hands little gold head. Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares...

From A Railway Carriage By Robert Louis Stevenson Faster than fairies, faster than witches, Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches; And charging along like troops in a battle All through the meadows the horses and cattle: All of the sights of the hill and the plain Fly as thick as driving rain; And ever again, in the wink of an eye, Painted stations whistle by. Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, All by himself and gathering brambles; Here is a tramp who stands and gazes; And here is the green for stringing the daisies! Here is a cart runaway in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill, and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone forever!

Dirty Face By Shel Silverstein Where did you get such a dirty face, My darling dirty-faced child? I got it from crawling along in the dirt And biting two buttons off Jeremy's shirt. I got it from chewing the roots of a rose And digging for clams in the yard with my nose. I got it from peeking into a dark cave And painting myself like a Navajo brave. I got it from playing with coal in the bin And signing my name in cement with my chin. I got if from rolling around on the rug And giving the horrible dog a big hug. I got it from finding a lost silver mine And eating sweet blackberries right off the vine. I got it from ice cream and wrestling and tears And from having more fun than you've had in years. Sound Cloud: Dirty Face" By Shel Silverstein Read By Alex

The Swing By Robert Louis Stevenson How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do! Up in the air and over the wall, Till I can see so wide, River and trees and cattle and all Over the countryside-- Till I look down on the garden green, Down on the roof so brown-- Up in the air I go flying again, Up in the air and down!

Morning Prayer By Ogden Nash  Now another day is breaking, Sleep was sweet and so is waking. Dear Lord, I promised you last night Never again to sulk or fight. Such vows are easier to keep When a child is sound asleep. Today, O Lord, for your dear sake, I'll try to keep them when awake.

Halfway Down By A. A. Milne Halfway down the stairs Is a stair Where I sit. There isn't any Other stair Quite like It. I'm not at the bottom, I'm not at the top; So this is the stair Where I always Stop. Halfway up the stairs Isn't up And it isn't down. It isn't in the nursery, It isn't in town. And all sorts of funny thoughts Run round my head. It isn't really Anywhere! It's somewhere else Instead!

Waiting At The Window By A. A. Milne These are my two drops of rain Waiting on the window-pane. I am waiting here to see Which the winning one will be. Both of them have different names. One is John and one is James. All the best and all the worst Comes from which of them is first. James has just begun to ooze. He's the one I want to lose. John is waiting to begin. He's the one I want to win. James is going slowly on. Something sort of sticks to John. John is moving off at last. James is going pretty fast. John is rushing down the pane. James is going slow again. James has met a sort of smear. John is getting very near. Is he going fast enough? (James has found a piece of fluff.) John has quickly hurried by. (James was talking to a fly.) John is there, and John has won! Look! I told you! Here's the sun!

Now We Are Six By A. A. Milne When I was one, I had just begun. When I was two, I was nearly new. When I was three, I was hardly me. When I was four, I was not much more. When I was five, I was just alive. But now I am six, I'm as clever as clever. So I think I'll be six now and forever.

Wind On The Hill By A. A. Milne No one can tell me, Nobody knows, Where the wind comes from, Where the wind goes. It's flying from somewhere As fast as it can, I couldn't keep up with it, Not if I ran. But if I stopped holding The string of my kite, It would blow with the wind For a day and a night. And then when I found it, Wherever it blew, I should know that the wind Had been going there too. So then I could tell them Where the wind goes… But where the wind comes from Nobody knows.

Sick By Shel Silverstein “I cannot go to school today," Said little Peggy Ann McKay. “I have the measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my throat is dry, I’m going blind in my right eye. My tonsils are as big as rocks, I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox And there’s one more--that’s seventeen, And don’t you think my face looks green? My leg is cut--my eyes are blue-- It might be instamatic flu. I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke, I’m sure that my left leg is broke-- My hip hurts when I move my chin, My belly button’s caving in, My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained, My ‘pendix pains each time it rains. My nose is cold, my toes are numb. I have a sliver in my thumb. My neck is stiff, my voice is weak, I hardly whisper when I speak. My tongue is filling up my mouth, I think my hair is falling out. My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight, My temperature is one-o-eight. My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear, There is a ho...