Poems for Kids

Dear Santa, this Christmas my list is quite small.
In fact, I need practically nothing at all.
My list is so short and so easy to read
because there's just one thing I actually need.

A reindeer for Christmas is all I require;
a reindeer, of course, who's an excellent flier.
I really don't care if it's Dasher or Dancer.
I'm okay with Cupid or Comet or Prancer.

Please don't think I'm greedy; I only want one.
You won't even miss him, and I'll have such fun.
I promise I'll feed him and treat him just right,
and take him out flying around every night.

You see, I'm not selfish. So, for my surprise
this Christmas, please bring me a reindeer that flies.
But if my request is a bit much for you,
I guess that an iPod will just have to do.

Swimming in the swimming pool
is where I like to "B,"
wearing underwater goggles
so that I can "C."
Yesterday, before I swam,
I drank a cup of "T."
Now the pool is just an "ool"
because I took a "P."

A candy bar.
A piece of cake.
A lollipop.
A chocolate shake.

A jelly donut.
Chocolate chips.
Some gummy worms
and licorice whips.

A candy cane.
A lemon drop.
Some bubblegum
and soda pop.

Vanilla wafers.
Cherry punch.
My mom slept in
while I made lunch.

My teacher calls me sweetie cakes.
My classmates think it's funny
to hear her call me angel face
or pookie bear or honey.

She calls me precious baby doll.
She calls me pumpkin pie
or doodle bug or honey bunch
or darling butterfly.

My class is so embarrassing
I need to find another;
just any class at all
in which the teacher's not my mother.

My sister thinks she's Santa Claus.
It's really kind of cute.
She likes to shout out "Ho, Ho, Ho!"
and wears a bright red suit.

She carries lots of toys around
inside a great big sack
and keeps her eight pet reindeer
with her sleigh out in the back.

She even has a workshop
where she makes a lot of noise
directing all the elves who help
by making brand new toys.

Then once a year, on Christmas Eve,
she flies off in her sleigh
delivering her gifts around the world
for Christmas Day.

She'd make a perfect Santa
which is why it's just too bad
my sister can't be Santa Claus;
see, Santa is our dad.

We're having a Halloween party at school.
I'm dressed up like Dracula. Man, I look cool!
I dyed my hair black and I cut off my bangs.
I'm wearing a cape and some fake plastic fangs.

I put on some makeup to paint my face white
like creatures that only come out in the night.
My fingernails, too, are all pointed and red.
There's no doubt I look like the evil undead.

My mom drops me off and I run into school
and suddenly feel like the world's biggest fool.
The other kids stare like I'm some kind of freak.
The Halloween party is not till next week.

Halloween is nearly here.
I've got my costume planned.
It's sure to be the most horrific
outfit in the land.

If you should see me coming
you may scream and hide your head.
My get-up will, I guarantee,
fill every heart with dread.

My costume may cause nightmares.
Yes, my mask may stop your heart.
You might just shriek and wet yourself,
then squeamishly depart.

And yet, I won't be dressing as
you might expect me to.
I will not be a vampire
or ghost that hollers "boo!"

I won't look like a werewolf
or a goblin or a ghoul,
or even like a slimy blob
of deadly, dripping drool.

I will not be a zombie
or some other horrid creature.
No, this year I'll be much, much worse...
I'm dressing as a teacher.

The teacher passed out and fell right off her chair.
My classmates are crying and gasping for air.
The hamster is howling and hiding his head.
The plants by the window are practically dead.

There's gas in the class; it's completely my fault,
and smells like a chemical weapons assault.
So try to remember this lesson from me:
Don't take off your shoes in class after P.E.

Don't ever bite your sister.
Don't kick her in the shin.
Don't slap your sister silly
and don't sock her on the chin.

Don't tape a "Kick Me" poster
upon your sister's back.
Don't take your stinky socks off
and then put them in her pack.

Don't purchase plastic spiders
and place them on her head.
Don't leave your rubber rattlesnake
inside your sister's bed.

Don't do this to your sister
for, if you ever do,
I'm pretty sure she may do something
even worse to you.

"Dear students, the summer has ended.
The school year at last has begun.
But this year is totally different.
I promise we'll only have fun.

"We won't study any mathematics,
and recess will last all day long.
Instead of the pledge of allegiance,
we'll belt out a rock-and-roll song.

"We'll only play games in the classroom.
You're welcome to bring in your toys.
It's okay to run in the hallways.
It's great if you make lots of noise.

"For homework, you'll play your Nintendo.
You'll have to watch lots of T.V.
For field trips we'll go to the movies
and get lots of candy for free.

"The lunchroom will only serve chocolate
and triple fudge sundaes supreme."
Yes, that's what I heard from my teacher
before I woke up from my dream.

"Elementary."
That means "easy."
I don't find it
quite so breezy.

Learn addition.
Then subtraction.
Multiply.
Divide a fraction.
Spelling. Science.
Reading. Writing.
Social studies.
Speech reciting.
Testing. Testing.
Still more Testing.
Not much recess.
Not much resting.

I complained but
no one listened.
Maybe elementary
isn't.

The record, so far, for the world's biggest burp,
is held by Belinda Melinda McNurp.
It wasn't on purpose. She wasn't to blame.
Her tummy just rumbled, and out the burp came.

Belinda then instantly saw her mistake.
The ground began trembling and starting to shake.
That rumble was suddenly more of a roar.
It busted the windows and knocked down the door.

Her mother and father both covered their ears.
Her brother and sister were nearly in tears.
Her puppy looked panicked and yipped as he fled.
Her kitten just cowered and covered his head.

The cars on the street began skidding and stopping.
The shoppers in shops started dropping their shopping.
The squirrels all burrowed. The birds flew away.
The sun disappeared for the rest of the day

as clouds began thundering all around town.
The trees toppled over. The buildings fell down.
Tornadoes and hurricanes blew through the sky.
The rivers flowed backward. The oceans ran dry.

Volcanoes erupted from Perth to Peru.
The Grand Canyon widened. Mount Everest grew.
The earth started spinning a different direction.
And, worst of all, I lost my iPhone connection.

Belinda was pretty embarrassed alright,
but she was well-mannered, and very polite.
And that's why she knew it would all be okay
when she said, "Excuse me," and went on her way.

They call me Captain Talkalot.
I really don't know why.
I only talk when I'm awake.
I'm such a quiet guy.

It's true I talk from sunrise
till the moment I'm in bed,
then spend the evening dreaming
of the things I should have said.

But, really, I don't talk too much.
I just say what I think,
which could be while I'm chewing food,
or guzzling a drink.

I'm sure I sometimes raise my voice,
and now and then I yell.
But that's to be expected
when you've got a tale to tell.

I'd never interrupt someone
if they were speaking first,
unless, of course, I had to,
or I felt like I would burst.

I'm simply not that talkative.
I'll show you all the ways
and tell you all the reasons
though it could take several days.

And when I'm done explaining,
then perhaps you'll tell me why
they call me Captain Talkalot.
I'm such a quiet guy.

I'm Glurp, the purple alien.
I come from outer space.
I have a purple body.
I have a purple face.
I use my purple tentacles
to dine on purple food.
The treats I find the tastiest
are purely purple-hued.
I'll eat a purple burger.
I'll slurp a purple shake.
I'll feast on purple pickles and
partake of purple cake.
I'll nosh on purple noodles.
I'll feast on purple fries.
I'll munch on purple macaroons
and purple pizza pies.
I haven't seen your planet,
but, if I ever do,
you'd better not wear purple.
I might just dine on you.

My family's fond of gadgets
and new technology.
My mother likes her radio.
My father likes TV.

My sister likes to dance around
the house with headphones on.
My brother plays on his PC
until the break of dawn.

The baby has a smartphone
and a touchscreen-tablet too.
If we had pets, I'm sure
that even they would have a few.

We chat with instant messaging.
We email and we text.
We're always looking forward
to the gadget we'll get next.

The power went out recently.
That day was like no other.
Our screens went blank and, strange but true,
we talked to one another.