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Alan Balter

Alan Balter

About Alan Balter

Alan Balter was born May 25th, 1939 in Chicago. He worked as a teacher for children with special needs before becoming a professor in the Special Education Department at Chicago State University. There, he prepared teachers for children and adolescents with learning disabilities and developmental delays. Along with Poetry for my Grandchildren and Everyone Else’s, his other publications include: Divided Apple: A Story about Teaching in Chicago, Learning Disabilities: a Book for Parents, and two novels entitled Birds of a Feather and Holden and Me.

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Poems by Alan Balter

Harvey The Hippo
- pending
- Posted on 10/26/19
A Limerick About Harvey The Hippo

in Animal Poems for Kids

Harvey the Hippo

Harvey is a huge hippopotamus

Harvey the Hippo

Harvey is a huge hippopotamus
Who bathes in a bay that is bottomless
HIs mouth is as large as a riverboat barge
And he weighs ten times more than a lot of us

Harvey wears a red cummerbund
And sewn on the back is the number one
He plays the tuba not far from Aruba
While dancing around in the summer sun

Once Harvey met up with a crocodile
Together they decided to walk a mile
Near the shore they strolled, but the water got cold
So they sat down to talk on the dock a while

Eating Oreo cookies about four apiece
They talked about matters of war and peace
They discussed the economy, art, and astronomy
And the huge immigration of foreign geese

Then walking back toward his new shiny house
Harvey stopped for a chat with a tiny mouse
Her name was Du Barry; they decided to marry
And soon come a baby named Stanislaus

A handsome young child was Stanislaus
Dressed up in his fine silken Spanish blouse
The all had made history; this was no mystery
For Stan was the first Hippopotamouse

Huge Harvey adored his sweet ladylove
From her wee little feet to her head above
He brought her some strings and other fine things
Including a snowy white turtledove

Harvey has grown really mellow now
He seldom produces a bellow now
But if you're down by the bay, you can still see him play
This wondrous and gentle old fellow now
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Night Noises
- Published: September 10, 2019
in Funny Poems for Kids

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

My parents' bedroom is far from mine, so I have to wonder
What the noise is every night that sounds a lot like thunder.
We don't live near the seashore, but almost every morn
I'm wakened by a noise that sounds like a fog horn.

It's louder than the sound of barking dogs at night
Or a fireworks explosion that lights the sky real bright.
A chainsaw cutting logs doesn't make as much din,
Nor did the wall coming down way over in Berlin.

A jet plane at takeoff will get your attention quick,
As will a jackhammer engaged in busting up some brick.
But neither equals the clamor from Mom and Dad's bedroom,
Worse than a stack of dynamite at the moment of KABOOM!

At last I figured out the source of all the raucous roaring.
It was only good old Dad engaging in some snoring
Mom says: "I don't mind; it's really a Godsend
That all that wind isn't coming out the other end."
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Featured Shared Story

The writer has given a humorous touch to a common incident found in many a home. Mother's lighthearted comment, "I don't mind; it's really a godsend" makes the idea more effective.

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Who Nose?
- Published: October 2017
in Funny Poems for Kids

Some are as long as hoses
You buy at a garden store.
Mine can be used to smell roses
From a couple of miles or more.

Some are as long as hoses
You buy at a garden store.
Mine can be used to smell roses
From a couple of miles or more.

In case you haven't guessed it,
It's noses I'm talking about here,
And although I've never expressed it
As for mine, it's unique, I fear.

On a night that's humid and warm
You'd be impressed I'd bet.
Stand under my nose in a thunderstorm.
Chances are you won't get wet.

Yesterday I had someone to meet.
The cab drive was the worst.
The driver dropped me at Eighth Street.
But my nose went on 'til First.

Then a jet plane we boarded
Me and my nose, it was neat.
I really couldn't afford it
'Cause we needed an extra seat.

For handkerchiefs, it's really rough.
It's hard to know what to do.
A small white cloth isn't enough,
So I use a bedsheet or two.

Perhaps I shouldn't be complaining.
Who knows where things went wrong?
Certainly I should be abstaining
From sticking it where it doesn't belong
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Featured Shared Story

I think children will like the poem. It's funny. You must have a lot of imagination to write such a poem. I like it!

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Great Grandpa
- Published: January 2018
My Great Grandfather And His Life's Work

in Family Poems for Kids

Great Grandpa is a wise old man who says he's ninety-four.
He tells me that he lost his leg fighting in some war.
When I was just a little tot with eyes and nose still runny,
He swears that he forgot my name, so now he calls me Sonny.

Great Grandpa is a wise old man who says he's ninety-four.
He tells me that he lost his leg fighting in some war.
When I was just a little tot with eyes and nose still runny,
He swears that he forgot my name, so now he calls me Sonny.

Great Grandpa is a carpenter; he makes things out of wood,
Chairs and stairs and pegs and legs; gee, I wish I could.
He has saws and tools and tapes and rules in the shed where he does work.
Most times he's out there late at night with his dear old helper, Turk.

Together they talk of good old days, 'bout things they used to do,
And sometimes they just kick around what are lies and what is true.
Once at breakfast, I asked my gramps when he learned his trade.
He said, "Sonny, I'm very proud to say it was down in second grade."

"Gramps," I said, "Now that's a fib; you weren't but seven or eight.
A boy can't be a carpenter at such an early date."
Grandpa winked and took a swig of cider for his thirst.
"Why, sure you can; it's easy Sonny, after nine straight years in first!"

We laughed and then he took a nap; his skin grew pale and lighter.
I loved his wrinkled face and brow, this great old freedom fighter.
He had a restful sleep awhile snoring soft and steady.
I wonder if Great Grandpa knows I'm missing him already.
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- Rating 4.28
Featured Shared Story

Balter's poem reminds me of my own grandfather whom I lost 49 years ago when he was 94. I remember his two habits very lucidly. He was a frugal eater. He used to weigh his food every time...

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Englksh Is A Pane
- Published: October 2017
Humorous Poem About The Inconsistencies Of English Language

in Funny Poems for Kids

Hear eye sit inn English class; the likelihood is that eye won't pass
An F on my report card wood bee worse than swallowing glass
It's knot that eye haven't studied, often till late at knight
Butt the rules are sew confusing, eye simply can't get them write

Hear eye sit inn English class; the likelihood is that eye won't pass
An F on my report card wood bee worse than swallowing glass
It's knot that eye haven't studied, often till late at knight
Butt the rules are sew confusing, eye simply can't get them write

Hour teacher says, "Heed my advice, ewe must study and sacrifice"
Butt if mouses are mice and louses are lice, how come blouses aren't blice
The confusion really abounds when adding esses two nouns
Gooses are geese, butt mooses aren't meese; somebody scent in the clowns

Two ultimatums are ultimata, and a couple of datum are data
Sew wouldn't ewe expect it wood bee correct fore a bunch of plums to be plata?
And if more than won octopus are octopi, and the plural of ox is oxen
Shouldn't a couple of busses bee bussi and a pare of foxes bee foxen?

Let's talk about spelling a wile, specifically letters witch are silent
Words like "psychologist" and "wreck" shirley make awl of us violent
And another example quite plane witch is really hard two explain
If it's eye before e except after sea, then what about feign and reign?

The final exam will determine how eye due, weather eye pass ore fail
I halve prepared as much as eye can down two the last detail
I'm ready two give it my vary best inn just a little wile
And then isle take a relaxing wrest on a tropical aisle
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- Rating 4.27
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Very clever and funny, but it kinda blows my mind reading through this at the same time! How on earth did I manage to learn this wonderful, confusing language?! I must be converting it into...

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View All Poems by Alan Balter

Alan Balter

About Alan Balter

Poems by Alan Balter

Harvey The Hippo

Night Noises

Who Nose?

Great Grandpa

Englksh Is A Pane