Famous Children Poems - Page 3

Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
'Tis a marvel of great renown!
It blooms on the shore of the Lollypop sea
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
(As those who have tasted it say)
That good little children have only to eat
Of that fruit to be happy next day.

When you've got to the tree, you would have a hard time
To capture the fruit which I sing;
The tree is so tall that no person could climb
To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
And a gingerbread dog prowls below -
And this is the way you contrive to get at
Those sugar-plums tempting you so:

You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
And he barks with such terrible zest
That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,
As her swelling proportions attest.
And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around
From this leafy limb unto that,
And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground -
Hurrah for that chocolate cat!

There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
With stripings of scarlet or gold,
And you carry away of the treasure that rains,
As much as your apron can hold!
So come, little child, cuddle closer to me
In your dainty white nightcap and gown,
And I'll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.

(sing to the tune of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game")

Let me out of the classroom.
Let me out of the school.
I’m not so good at geography.
I would rather be watching T.V.

It’s still twenty minutes till recess.
Lunch is hours away.
Won’t you please, please, please get me out
of the class today?

Someone’s here with a note now.
Teacher’s calling my name.
He says my mother is right outside.
I should go and she’ll give me a ride

to my yearly dentist appointment.
I forgot it’s today!
Teacher please, please, please help me out.
Won’t you let me stay?

“Let Me Out of the Classroom” copyright © 2007 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Published in Revenge of the Lunch Ladies. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

At evening when I go to bed
I see the stars shine overhead;
They are the little daisies white
That dot the meadow of the Night.

And often while I'm dreaming so,
Across the sky the Moon will go;
It is a lady, sweet and fair,
Who comes to gather daisies there.

For, when at morning I arise,
There's not a star left in the skies;
She's picked them all and dropped them down
Into the meadows of the town.

In the heart of a seed,
    Buried deep, so deep,
A dear little plant
    Lay fast asleep.

"Wake!" said the sunshine,
    "And creep to the light."
"Wake!" said the voice
    Of the raindrops bright.

The little plant heard,
    And it rose to see
What the wonderful
    Outside world might be.

I can’t wait for summer, when school days are done,
to spend the days playing outside in the sun.
I won’t have to study. No homework, no tests.
Just afternoons spent on adventures and quests.
Instead of mathematics and writing reports,
I’ll go to the park and play summertime sports.
Instead of assignments, report cards, and grades,
I’ll get to play baseball and watch the parades.
I’ll swing on the playground. I’ll swim in the pool
instead of just practicing lessons in school.
The second the school year is finally done
I’ll spend every minute with friends having fun.
I hardly can wait for the end of the year.
I’m counting the days until summer is here.
It’s hard to be patient. It’s hard to be cool.
It’s hard to believe it’s the first day of school.

“I Can’t Wait for Summer” copyright © 2005 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Published in When the Teacher Isn’t Looking. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

Over in the meadow,
    In the sand, in the sun,
Lived an old mother toad
    And her little toadie one.
"Wink!" said the mother;
    "I wink," said the one;
So she winked and she blinked
    In the sand, in the sun.

Over in the meadow,
    Where the stream runs blue,
Lived an old mother fish
    And her little fishes two.
"Swim!" said the mother;
    "We swim," said the two;
So they swam and they leaped
    Where the stream runs blue.

Over in the meadow,
    In a hole in a tree,
Lived a mother bluebird
    And her little birdies three.
"Sing!" said the mother;
    "We sing," said the three;
So they sang and were glad
    In the hole in the tree.

Over in the meadow,
    In a snug beehive,
Lived a mother honeybee
    And her little honeys five.
"Buzz!" said the mother;
    "We buzz," said the five;
So they buzzed and they hummed
    In the snug beehive.

Over in the meadow,
    Where the clear pools shine,
Lived a green mother frog,
    And her little froggies nine.
"Croak!" said the mother;
    "We croak," said the nine;
So they croaked and they splashed
    Where the clear pools shine.

Over in the meadow,
    In a sly little den,
Lived a gray mother spider
    And her little spiders ten.
"Spin!" said the mother;
    "We spin," said the ten;
So they spun lace webs
    In their sly little den.

Hello, my name is Andy.
I’m a fan of eating candy.
It’s delicious and it’s dandy,
and my favorite thing to eat.

When I want some sweets for eating,
I’ll be at your door repeating
that fantastic, famous greeting…
I’ll be shouting, “Trick or treat!”

I’ll be dressed up like a mummy,
out in search of something yummy,
like a chocolate bar or gummi.
I’ll be marching door-to-door.

And, as long as you have dishes
full of candy so delicious
it can satisfy my wishes,
I’ll keep coming back for more.

You might think I’m being sneaky,
or perhaps a little cheeky,
and some people say it’s freaky,
and they often ask me why…

And they tell me that it’s cheating
to be on their doorstep beating
on the front door, trick-or-treating,
in the middle of July.

“Candy Andy” copyright © 2021 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

Lester was given a magic wish
By the goblin who lives in the banyan tree,
And with his wish he wished for two more wishes-
So now instead of just one wish, he cleverly had three.
And with each one of these
He simply wished for three more wishes,
Which gave him three old wishes, plus nine new.
And with each of these twelve
He slyly wished for three more wishes,
Which added up to forty-six -- or is it fifty-two?
Well anyway, he used each wish
To wish for wishes 'til he had
Five billion, seven million, eighteen thousand thirty-four.
And then he spread them on the ground
And clapped his hands and danced around
And skipped and sang, and then sat down
And wished for more.
And more...and more...they multiplied
While other people smiled and cried
And loved and reached and touched and felt.
Lester sat amid his wealth
Stacked mountain-high like stacks of gold,
Sat and counted -- and grew old.
And then one Thursday night they found him
Dead -- with his wishes piled around him.
And they counted the lot and found that not
A single one was missing.
All shiny and new -- here, take a few
And think of Lester as you do.
In a world of apples and kisses and shoes
He wasted his wishes on wishing.

I love these days when autumn leaves
    Are falling everywhere around,
And I can tread among the sheaves,
    And hear the crispy, crunchy sound.

I leave my dolly safe at home,
    And climb the old gray orchard wall;
The squirrels spy me where I roam,
    And scamper to the treetops tall.

And O, it is a pleasant thing
    To listen for the happy sound,
Each little leaflet tries to sing,
    That rustles softly to the ground.

And so I spend the afternoon,
    And watch the leaves go floating by
Till Mother comes to say that soon
    The dark will come into the sky.

I know when stars are overhead,
    The leaves all gather in a heap,
And while I lie quite warm in bed,
    They snuggle close and go to sleep.

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.

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 went by).
"Down to the village to get some oats.
  Will you come with us?" "No, not I."

I met a Puppy as I went walking;
We got talking,
Puppy and I.
"Where are you going this nice fine day?"
  (I said to the Puppy as he went by).
"Up to the hills to roll and play."
"I'll come with you, Puppy," said I.

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!

O bird that darts now low, now high,
You know the streets across the sky;
You know where leafy lanes lie deep
And quiet nooks to go to sleep;
You know the place to build a nest,
What twigs to use, what shape is best;
I wonder how you found things out
That scholars never know about;
I've studied large books through and through,
But never can be wise as you!

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
   In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
   Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
   And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
    What a beautiful Pussy you are,
         You are,
         You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!
   How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
   But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
   To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
   With a ring at the end of his nose,
             His nose,
             His nose,
   With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
   Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away, and were married next day
   By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
   Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
   They danced by the light of the moon,
             The moon,
             The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Between the bookcase and the wall
'Is raised a castle, gray and tall,
The desk top is a wooden moat,
The rocking chair's a pirate boat,—
My little boy, turned six to-day,
Has fierce adventures in his play.

My little maid goes venturing, too,
O bold grim robbers—what a crew!
She helps to take the gold—but then
She hurries back to home again
For she must set the things for tea
With beautiful house-wifery.

The table's set upon the floor,
    The pirate marches in,
And eats and eats and asks for more
    With true piratic din.

O ye who never knew the life
Of dragon-hunting, golden strife
Of pirates on a windy sea
Returning meekly home for tea;
Who never heard the black knight's call—
I fear ye have not lived at all!

Each new little day slips out of my hand,
And then with another new day I stand;
But soon that is gone and folded away—
I wish I might keep forever one day!
I wish that one good day might always stay,
For the good days hurry on so fast,
Only the bad days seem to last;
But soon the worst of days is past;
And now within my room I stand
With a new little day within my hand.

Birds all the sunny day
    Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbour-like
    Tent of the laurel.

Here in the fork
    The brown nest is seated;
Four little blue eggs
    The mother keeps heated.

While we stand watching her
    Staring like gabies,
Safe in each egg are the
    Bird's little babies.

Soon the frail eggs they shall
    Chip, and upspringing
Make all the April woods
    Merry with singing.

Younger than we are,
    O children, and frailer,
Soon in blue air they'll be,
    Singer and sailor.

We, so much older,
    Taller and stronger,
We shall look down on the
    Birdies no longer.

They shall go flying
    With musical speeches
High over head in the
    Tops of the beeches.

In spite of our wisdom
    And sensible talking,
We on our feet must go
    Plodding and walking.

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

The people outside on the sidewalk
can’t seem to remain on the ground.
They’re jumping and hopping and springing,
and generally bouncing around.

I’ve never seen anything like it.
It’s such an unusual scene,
as if they have springs in their sneakers,
or bounce on a big trampoline.

I think I know what may have happened
that caused this chaotic event:
Last week they replaced our old sidewalk
with one made of rubber cement!

“Springy Sidewalk” copyright © 2021 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. Published in The Aliens Have Landed at Our School. Reprinted by permission of the author. www.poetry4kids.com

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 bounding, bouncing antelope,
You'd never get me back to my desk again!

Or I might be a puma,
A singe-colored puma,
A slinking, sly-foot puma
As fierce as fierce could be!
And I'd wait by the waterholes where antelope drink
In the cool of the morning
And I do
              not
                    think
That ever any antelope could get away from me.

But if I were a hunter,
A red Indian hunter -
I'd like to be a hunter, -
I'd have a bow made of juniper wood
From a lightning-blasted tree,
And I'd creep and I'd creep on that puma asleep
A flint tipped arrow,
An eagle feathered arrow,
For a puma kills calves and a puma kills sheep,
And he'd never eat any more antelope
If he once met up with me!