Famous Children Poems

Famous Children Poems

Poems for Children by Famous Poets

Poetry offers up a wealth of benefits for children. It fosters a love for language, thereby building literacy. It helps children understand themselves and others, allowing them to cultivate valuable qualities like compassion and empathy. It is also a healthy way for children to express their emotions and deal with emotionally challenging situations. Fortunately, there are many famous poems for children. Poets like A. A. Milne and William Blake wrote many poems for children that can inspire them to find their voice and representation through poetry, even from an early age.

62 Poems for Kids

  1. 1. Sick

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    When children don’t want to do something, they come up with every excuse they can think of to get out of it. There are many kinds of sicknesses children try to convince their parents they have been afflicted with in order to get out of going to school. The character in this poem seems to have come down with every possible illness, but what happens when she realizes it’s not a school day? Shel Silverstein crafts a poem that will resonate with children and adults alike.

    “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 hole inside my ear.
    I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
    What’s that? What’s that you say?
    You say today is. . .Saturday?
    G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

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    I routinely skipped school for some reasons that even I couldn't understand at the time. In a thorough medical checkup after 10th grade, my parents realized that I couldn't see well. I...

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  3. 2. Wind On The Hill

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    The wind is a unique phenomenon. While we are unable to see it, we can see the result of it blowing. “Wind on the Hill” shows a child grappling with this understanding. A.A. Milne wrote books and poems for children. His most famous creation was Winnie the Pooh.

    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.

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    This is beautiful! I love the description, and I will be using this for a presentation. Thank you so much for sharing. This is a question I think everyone has thought about at some point in...

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  5. 3. Now We Are Six

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    A.A. Milne was an English author who lived from 1882-1956. He is best known for his stories about Winnie the Pooh, which were inspired by his son, Christopher Robin Milne's, stuffed animals. In this poem, a young child recounts the previous five years and how life was just beginning. But six, oh, six is the best year.

    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 for ever and ever.

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    I remember my dad reading this poem to me when I turned 6! He read many poems and stories to me but this was one of my favorites! Did not realize it was Winnie the Pooh until recently. To...

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  6. 4. Snowball

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    Shel Silverstein's (1930-1999) comedic genius is demonstrated in this short, funny poem that is sure to bring a smile to children of all ages and adults as well.

    Bonus pleasure points: If you're sharing this poem with a child be sure to catch the look on their face as they figure out why snowballs don't make good pets!

    I made myself a snowball
    As perfect as could be.
    I thought I'd keep it as a pet
    And let it sleep with me.
    I made it some pajamas
    And a pillow for its head.
    Then last night it ran away,
    But first it wet the bed.

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    I love the humor, innocence and whimsy of this poem. But there's more here than meets the eye. If you look a bit deeper, you can see how we sometimes don't properly interpret our experiences,...

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  7. 5. The Moon

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    This poem makes the moon seem like a living thing, and Robert Louis Stevenson shares all that it does while shining each night. It acts as a protector of the night, watching over people, animals, and places.

    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.

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    Really nice. There's not a much more spectacular site than a full moon, especially on a snow covered landscape.

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  8. 6. Being Brave At Night

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    During the day children are busy and don't have time to waste worrying about silly monsters, but children lying in bed at night waiting to fall asleep have lots of time to worry about invading giants, ghosts or elephants. To a child's mind, sticking close to an all powerful parent is actually a really sensible survival strategy.
    Being Brave At Night is published in the book Rhymes Of Childhood (1924), a collection of poems by Edgar A. Guest about home, childhood and family.

    The other night 'bout two o'clock, or maybe it was three,
    An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me.
    His trunk was wavin' in the air an'  spoutin' jets of steam
    An' he was out to eat me up, but still I didn't scream
    Or let him see that I was scared - a better thought I had,
    I just escaped from where I was and crawled in bed with Dad.

    One time there was a giant who was horrible to see,
    He had three heads and twenty arms, an' he came after me
    And red hot fire came from his mouths and every hand was red
    And he declared he'd grind my bones and make them into bread.
    But I was just too smart for him, I fooled him mighty bad,
    Before his hands could collar me I crawled in bed with Dad.

    I ain't scared of nothin' that comes pesterin' me at night.
    Once I was chased by forty ghosts all shimmery an' white.
    An' I just raced 'em round the room an' let 'em think maybe
    I'd have to stop an' rest awhile, when they could capture me.
    Then when they leapt onto my bed, Oh Gee! But they were mad
    To find that I had slipped away an' crawled in bed with Dad.

    No giants, ghosts or elephants have dared to come in there
    'Coz if they did he'd beat 'em up and chase 'em to their lair.
    They just hang 'round the children's rooms
    an' snap an' snarl an' bite
    An' laugh if they can make 'em yell
    for help with all their might.
    But I don't ever yell out loud. I'm not that sort of lad,
    I slip from out the covers and I crawl in bed with Dad.

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    This is truly a great poem describing the vivid imagination of children, and it does seem that children have an even deeper imagination when it comes to bedtime! I think this is a great poem...

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  9. 7. Life Doesn't Frighten Me

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    Maya Angelou, an inspirational American poet, crafted a poem from a child’s perspective about all the frightening things in her world. Although this poem showcases many things that frighten a child, the greater theme in this poem is that no matter the obstacles we face in life, we can overcome them. The repetition of “life doesn’t frighten me at all” reinforces that theme.

    Shadows on the wall
    Noises down the hall
    Life doesn't frighten me at all

    Bad dogs barking loud
    Big ghosts in a cloud
    Life doesn't frighten me at all

    Mean old Mother Goose
    Lions on the loose
    They don't frighten me at all

    Dragons breathing flame
    On my counterpane
    That doesn't frighten me at all.

    I go boo
    Make them shoo
    I make fun
    Way they run
    I won't cry
    So they fly
    I just smile
    They go wild

    Life doesn't frighten me at all.

    Tough guys fight
    All alone at night
    Life doesn't frighten me at all.

    Panthers in the park
    Strangers in the dark
    No, they don't frighten me at all.

    That new classroom where
    Boys all pull my hair
    (Kissy little girls
    With their hair in curls)
    They don't frighten me at all.

    Don't show me frogs and snakes
    And listen for my scream,
    If I'm afraid at all
    It's only in my dreams.

    I've got a magic charm
    That I keep up my sleeve
    I can walk the ocean floor
    And never have to breathe.

    Life doesn't frighten me at all
    Not at all
    Not at all.

    Life doesn't frighten me at all.

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    I think this is a really good poem because it teaches kids not to give up and hide in the shadows and actually express themselves.

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  10. 8. The Rainbow

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    There are many pretty sights in this world, some of which are manmade, but nothing compares to the beauty found in nature. The beauty of clouds and rainbows cannot be replicated by human hands.

    Boats sail on the rivers,
      And ships sail on the seas;
    But clouds that sail across the sky
      Are prettier far 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.

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    My 11-year-old daughter loved this and learned quickly to recite it.

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  11. 9. The Spider And The Fly

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    "The Spider and the Fly" is a poem by Mary Howitt (1799-1888), published in 1828. The story tells of a cunning Spider who ensnares a Fly through the use of seduction and flattery. The poem teaches children to be wary against those who use flattery and charm to disguise their true evil intentions. The gruesome ending in this cautionary tale is used to reinforce the important life lesson being taught.

    "Will you walk into my parlor?" said the spider to the fly;
    "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you may spy.
    The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
    And I have many curious things to show when you are there."
    "Oh no, no," said the little fly; "to ask me is in vain,
    For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

    "I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high.
    Well you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly.
    "There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
    And if you like to rest a while, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
    "Oh no, no," said the little fly, "for I've often heard it said,
    They never, never wake again who sleep upon your bed!"

    Said the cunning spider to the fly: "Dear friend, what can I do
    To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?
    I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;
    I'm sure you're very welcome - will you please to take a slice?"
    "Oh no, no," said the little fly; "kind sir, that cannot be:
    I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"

    "Sweet creature!" said the spider, "you're witty and you're wise;
    How handsome are your gauzy wings; how brilliant are your eyes!
    I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;
    If you'd step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."
    "I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you're pleased to say,
    And, bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."

    The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
    For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again:
    So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
    And set his table ready to dine upon the fly;
    Then came out to his door again and merrily did sing:
    "Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with pearl and silver wing;
    Your robes are green and purple; there's a crest upon your head;
    Your eyes are like diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"

    Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly,
    Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
    With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer grew,
    Thinking only of her brilliant eyes and green and purple hue,
    Thinking only of her crested head. Poor, foolish thing! at last
    Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast;
    He dragged her up his winding stair, into the dismal den -
    Within his little parlor - but she ne'er came out again!

    And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
    To idle, silly flattering words I pray you ne'er give heed;
    Unto an evil counselor close heart and ear and eye,
    And take a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly.

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    This is a beautiful poem, very beautiful! It can as well be a warning to school girls who are prone to dating those men out there. Symbolically, the spider in the poem is a male and the fly...

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  12. 10. Waiting At The Window

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    “Waiting at the Window” is about a child looking outside on a rainy day. He could be wishing to be outside playing, but then he notices the raindrops falling down the window. As he continues to watch, he sees the rain drops falling, and he pretends the raindrops are in a race to see which one will get to the bottom of the window first.

    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!

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    Isn't it awesome how while there is rain we still have something to do!

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  13. 11. Dirty Face

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    Shel Silverstein, who died in 1999, was a singer, song writer, poet and author of many children's books. "Dirty Face" is a fun poem to read for both children and adults. Silverstein reminisces fondly about the carefree childhood existence.

    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.

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    So cute!! Like the spaghetti, chocolate, ice-cream. It's the kids that get the dirtiest, that have the most fun. It's a lifetime of adventure and silliness that they will remember forever....

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  14. 12. Underface

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    Children, teenagers, and adults as well, can all identify with the message of this poem for children from Shel Silverstein published in his book, "Every Thing On It." Sometimes we all feel like no one really truly knows us, as if we are wearing a mask and our true self is hidden from all underneath our face.

    Underneath my outside face
    There's a face that none can see.
    A little less smiley,
    A little less sure,
    But a whole lot more like me

    Underface By Shel Silverstein

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    What a perfect poem! At times we could basically tell how people were feeling despite their facial expressions. It was in their eyes the tell- tale signs that led us to see at least the...

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  15. 13. Listen To The MUSTN'TS

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    Although Shel Silverstein (1930-1999) wrote poetry for young children, adults can glean many lessons from his pieces. This poem is filled with lessons on dreaming and persevering. Don’t allow others to get you down, because in the end, anything is possible.

    Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
    Listen to the DON'TS
    Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
    The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S
    Listen to the NEVER HAVES
    Then listen close to me-
    Anything can happen, child,
    ANYTHING can be

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    I love this poem because I have been writing love letters to my two teenagers and eight year old for fifteen years reminding them of what they shouldn't.

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  16. 14. Friends

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    Abbie Farwell Brown was an American author who lived from 1871-1927. While attending the Girls' Latin School, she created a school newspaper, The Jabberwock, which is still being published today. In the poem "Friends," Brown shares that even things in nature can be children's friends, giving them comfort whenever they fear.

    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.

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  17. 15. Halfway Down

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    “Halfway Down” is a poem written from a child’s perspective about the special spot in the middle of the staircase. What makes it special is it’s not at the top or bottom, it’s not upstairs or downstairs. It’s in a place all its own. Children have a wonderfully unique way of looking at the world.

    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 isn't down.
    It isn't in the nursery,
    It isn't in the town.
    And all sorts of funny thoughts
    Run round my head.
    It isn't really
    Anywhere!
    It's somewhere else
    Instead!

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    My mum and dad would read and recite all of AA Milne's poems and stories to the four of us in the early 1950's. There was one piece that I can vaguely remember; it was about a leather donkey...

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  18. 16. My Shadow

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    A child tries to understand the concept of his shadow. He finds it to be a silly companion who doesn’t seem to understand how it ought to act.

    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 stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

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  19. 17. Story Telling

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    Children love to be told bedtime stories. The more the storyteller acts out, the more captivating the tale. This is an enjoyable poem about a father telling his children stories before bed. While the mother doesn’t fully understand why he makes such a scene, the children can’t get enough of their father’s made-up stories.

    Most every night when they're in bed,
    And both their little prayers have said,
    They shout for me to come upstairs
    And tell them tales of gypsies bold,
    And eagles with the claws that hold
    A baby's weight, and fairy sprites
    That roam the woods on starry nights.

    And I must illustrate these tales,
    Must imitate the northern gales
    That toss the native man's canoe,
    And show the way he paddles, too.
    If in the story comes a bear,
    I have to pause and sniff the air
    And show the way he climbs the trees
    To steal the honey from the bees.

    And then I buzz like angry bees
    And sting him on his nose and knees
    And howl in pain, till mother cries:
    "That pair will never shut their eyes,
    While all that noise up there you make;
    You're simply keeping them awake."
    And then they whisper: "Just one more,"
    And once again I'm forced to roar.

    New stories every night they ask.
    And that is not an easy task;
    I have to be so many things,
    The frog that croaks, the lark that sings,
    The cunning fox, the frightened hen;
    But just last night they stumped me, when
    They wanted me to twist and squirm
    And imitate an angle worm.

    At last they tumble off to sleep,
    And softly from their room I creep
    And brush and comb the shock of hair
    I tossed about to be a bear.
    Then mother says: "Well, I should say
    You're just as much a child as they."
    But you can bet I'll not resign
    That story telling job of mine.

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    Grandpa sat with cigar at his side (rarely in his mouth), his bushy gray eyebrows and mustache crouched in intense concentration, a chess piece or book in hand in most of my memories. But...

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  20. 18. Morning Prayer

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    Ogden Nash was an American poet who lived from 1902-1971 and was known for his light verse. This poem captures the honesty of a child who has a difficult time behaving during the day. It’s much easier when he’s sleeping. It’s a reminder to all of us to look for new opportunities presented each day.

    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.

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  21. 19. Teddy Bear

    Famous Poem

    "Teddy Bear" was first published in When We Were Very Young, a book of poetry by A. A. Milne.
    The teddy bear in this poem would later become the famous Winnie-the-Pooh from A. A. Milne's famous book series.

    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,
    Slept in the ottoman at night,
    And with him crowded in as well
    More animals than I can tell;
    Not only these, but books and things,
    Such as a kind relation brings -
    Old tales of "Once upon a time",
    And history retold in rhyme.

    One night it happened that he took
    A peep at an old picture-book,
    Wherein he came across by chance
    The picture of a King of France
    (A stoutish man) and, down below,
    These words: "King Louis So and So,
    Nicknamed 'The Handsome!' " There he sat,
    And (think of it) the man was fat!

    Our bear rejoiced like anything
    To read about this famous King,
    Nicknamed the "Handsome." Not a doubt
    The man was definitely stout.
    Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
    Might yet be named "The Handsome Cub!"

    "Might yet be named." Or did he mean
    That years ago he "might have been"?
    For now he felt a slight misgiving:
    "Is Louis So and So still living?
    Fashions in beauty have a way
    Of altering from day to day.
    Is 'Handsome Louis' with us yet?
    Unfortunately I forget."

    Next morning (nose to window-pane)
    The doubt occurred to him again.
    One question hammered in his head:
    "Is he alive or is he dead?"
    Thus, nose to pane, he pondered; but
    The lattice window, loosely shut,
    Swung open. With one startled "Oh!"
    Our Teddy disappeared below.

    There happened to be passing by
    A plump man with a twinkling eye,
    Who, seeing Teddy in the street,
    Raised him politely on his feet,
    And murmured kindly in his ear
    Soft words of comfort and of cheer:
    "Well, well!" "Allow me!" "Not at all."
    "Tut-tut!" A very nasty fall."

    Our Teddy answered not a word;
    It's doubtful if he even heard.
    Our bear could only look and look:
    The stout man in the picture-book!
    That "handsome" King - could this be he,
    This man of adiposity?
    "Impossible," he thought. "But still,
    No harm in asking. Yes, I will!"

    "Are you," he said, "by any chance
    His Majesty the King of France?"
    The other answered, "I am that,"
    Bowed stiffly, and removed his hat;
    Then said, "Excuse me," with an air
    "But is it Mr. Edward Bear?"
    And Teddy, bending very low,
    Replied politely, "Even so!"

    They stood beneath the window there,
    The King and Mr. Edward Bear,
    And, handsome, if a trifle fat,
    Talked carelessly of this and that ...
    Then said His Majesty, "Well, well,
    I must get on," and rang the bell.
    "Your bear, I think," he smiled. "Good-day!"
    And turned, and went upon his way.

    A bear, however hard he tries,
    Grows tubby without exercise.
    Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
    Which is not to be wondered at.
    But do you think it worries him
    To know that he is far from slim?
    No, just the other way about -
    He's proud of being short and stout.

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  22. 20. Bed In Summer

    Famous Poem

    Most children have an early bedtime. In the winter it’s not a problem for them to fall asleep, because it gets dark early, but summer makes it difficult. With more daylight, children long to be able to play until the sun dips far below the horizon.

    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?

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