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.

53 Poems for Kids

  1. 1. Sick

    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!”

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 20
    • Shares 71557
    • Favorited 92
    • Votes 6205
    • Rating 4.45
    • Poem of the Week
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (20)

  2. Advertisement


  3. 2. Life Doesn't Frighten Me

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 4
    • Shares 21189
    • Favorited 34
    • Votes 1362
    • Rating 4.31
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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.

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (4)

  4. Advertisement


  5. 3. Being Brave At Night

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 2
    • Shares 20604
    • Favorited 33
    • Votes 2282
    • Rating 4.16
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (2)

  6. 4. Listen To The MUSTN'TS

    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
    Listen to the NEVER HAVES
    Then listen close to me-
    Anything can happen, child,
    ANYTHING can be

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 1
    • Shares 8380
    • Favorited 27
    • Votes 1196
    • Rating 4.16
    • Poem of the Week
    Featured Shared Story

    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.

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)

  7. 5. Underface

    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

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 3
    • Shares 3331
    • Favorited 31
    • Votes 782
    • Rating 4.25
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (3)

  8. 6. Story Telling

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 2
    • Shares 3939
    • Favorited 17
    • Votes 664
    • Rating 4.13
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (2)

  9. 7. The Good Little Boy

    In this charming poem by Edgar Guest (1881-1959), the speaker shares about a young boy who never did anything wrong. Edgar Guest had a way of writing uplifting poems, and he wrote prolifically, publishing one poem a day for 30 years. The dialect in this poem contributes to its laid-back nature.

    Once there was a boy who never
    Tore his clothes, or hardly ever,
    Never made his sister mad,
    Never whipped fer bein' bad,
    Never scolded by his Ma,
    Never frowned at by his Pa,
    Always fit fer folks to see,
    Always good as good could be.

    This good little boy from Heaven,
    So I'm told, was only seven,
    Yet he never shed real tears
    When his mother scrubbed his ears,
    An' at times when he was dressed
    Fer a party, in his best,
    He was careful of his shirt
    Not to get it smeared with dirt.

    Used to study late at night,
    Learnin' how to read an' write;
    When he played a baseball game,
    Right away he always came
    When his mother called him in.
    An' he never made a din
    But was quiet as a mouse
    when they'd comp'ny in the house.

    Liked to wash his hands an' face,
    Liked to work around the place;
    Never, when he'd tired of play,
    Left his wagon in the way,
    Or his bat an' ball around--
    Put 'em where they could be found;
    An' that good boy married Ma,
    An' to-day he is my Pa.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 0
    • Shares 1727
    • Favorited 10
    • Votes 229
    • Rating 4.10
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    No Stories yet, You can be the first!

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (0)

  10. 8. Snowball

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 6
    • Shares 51788
    • Favorited 64
    • Votes 7133
    • Rating 4.37
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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,...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (6)

  11. 9. Now We Are Six

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 14
    • Shares 50929
    • Favorited 74
    • Votes 3556
    • Rating 4.28
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    I was entered into a competition where I had to say a short poem so picked this and kept reading it until I knew it by heart. The day came, I recited it without stumbling, when I had finished...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (14)

  12. 10. Wind On The Hill

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 13
    • Shares 49311
    • Favorited 75
    • Votes 3881
    • Rating 4.25
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (13)

  13. 11. The Mountain And The Squirrel

    Ralph Waldo Emerson was a licensed minister who resigned from the clergy when his first wife passed away a couple years into their marriage. In this poem, a squirrel and a mountain have a quarrel because the mountain feels as though it is more important. Each person has his or her own individual talents, and everyone/everything has its purpose in this world, none greater or less than another.

    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."

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 7
    • Shares 9872
    • Favorited 9
    • Votes 2858
    • Rating 4.25
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    I read this poem in 1965 when I carried a paperback book of poems in my backpack when an infantry soldier in Vietnam. We, the infantry group in which I served, were such a collection of...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (7)

  14. 12. Sneezles

    This humorous poem by A.A. Milne shows parents taking care of a child with a cold, but they are worrying about the symptoms turning into something worse. Christopher Robin, mentioned in this poem, was A.A. Milne’s son. Milne was the creator of Winnie the Pooh.

    Christopher Robin
    Had wheezles
    And sneezles,
    They bundled him
    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 sneezle
    Or wheezle,
    A measle
    May easily grow.
    But humour or pleazle
    The wheezle
    Or sneezle,
    The measle
    Will certainly go."
    They expounded the reazles
    For sneezles
    And wheezles,
    The manner of measles
    When new.
    They said "If he freezles
    In draughts and in breezles,
    May even ensue."

    Christopher Robin
    Got up in the morning,
    The sneezles had vanished away.
    And the look in his eye
    Seemed to say to the sky,
    "Now, how to amuse them to-day?"

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 6
    • Shares 6758
    • Favorited 14
    • Votes 866
    • Rating 4.21
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    I am an 80-year-old woman who has just moved into a seniors' residence. Shortly after I arrived, COVID-19 did too! For over a month now, we have been kept in isolation from the rest of the...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (6)

  15. 13. Halfway Down

    “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
    I'm not at the bottom,
    I'm not at the top;
    So this is the stair
    I always

    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
    It's somewhere else

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 3
    • Shares 9717
    • Favorited 21
    • Votes 1079
    • Rating 4.20
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    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...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (3)

  16. 14. Dirty Face

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 3
    • Shares 9128
    • Favorited 30
    • Votes 756
    • Rating 4.19
    • Poem of the Week
    Featured Shared Story

    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....

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (3)

  17. 15. The Moon

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 1
    • Shares 18055
    • Favorited 35
    • Votes 1292
    • Rating 4.18
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

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

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)

  18. 16. Friends

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 0
    • Shares 21334
    • Favorited 26
    • Votes 828
    • Rating 4.18
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    No Stories yet, You can be the first!

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (0)

  19. 17. The Spider And The Fly

    "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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 6
    • Shares 10996
    • Favorited 30
    • Votes 1327
    • Rating 4.17
    Featured Shared Story

    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...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (6)

  20. 18. Waiting At The Window

    “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!

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 3
    • Shares 15503
    • Favorited 31
    • Votes 1240
    • Rating 4.16
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

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

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (3)

  21. 19. The Rainbow

    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.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 3
    • Shares 21341
    • Favorited 27
    • Votes 2064
    • Rating 4.14
    • Poem of the Week
    Featured Shared Story

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

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (3)

  22. 20. Vespers

    "Vespers" was the first poem published by Alan Alexander Milne. Christopher Robin Milne, A.A. Milne’s son, was the inspiration for this poem, and it showcases him saying his prayers before going to bed.

    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!
    Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

    Go To Complete Poem

    • Stories 9
    • Shares 4399
    • Favorited 8
    • Votes 1057
    • Rating 4.24
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    I also grew up with A.A. Milne and Childcraft books. "Vespers" is a special kind of magic that happens only a very few times in a person's life. When I was [or when we were] very young, the...

    Read complete story

    Touched by the poem? Share your story! (9)

1 - 20 of 53 Poems

Back to Top