Best Poems For Kids

Lizzy McBizzy

Lizzy McBizzy was always in a tizzy
Her calendar pages would make anyone dizzy
She’d arrive at one place and hardly sit down
Before she’d be out the door with another leap and bound,

She’d always arrive asking, “can we make this fast?"
For she warned she’d certainly be off in a flash
Her toes and toenails would ache in her shoes
Tied far too tightly so they’d never come loose,

Her heels felt like cracking beneath the constant pace
Of her tick always tocking in endless haste
Her shins always whined that the work was too much
To keep everything going in such a constant rush,

Her feet to her knees were always in protest
That the demand of their job was in need of some rest
But Lizzy was too busy to hear their complaints
She had too much to do to schedule in breaks,

Finally one day after months of screaming and yelling
About union laws, and lunch breaks, and conditional dwellings
Little Lizzy’s feet took a stand against the lack of enjoyment
And walked off to find themselves better employment...!!!

If I Were in Charge of the World

If I were in charge of the world
I’d cancel oatmeal,
Monday mornings,
Allergy shots, and also
Sara Stein berg

If I were in charge of the world
There’d be brighter night lights,
Healthier hamsters, and 
Basketball baskets forty-eight inches lower.

If I were in charge of the world
You wouldn't have lonely.
You wouldn't have clean.
You wouldn't have bedtimes.
Or “Don’t punch your sister.”
You wouldn't even have sisters.

If I were in charge of the world
A chocolate sundae with whipped cream and nuts
would be a vegetable.
All 007 movies would be G. 
And a person who sometimes forgot to brush,
And sometimes forgot to flush,
Would still be allowed to be

In charge of the world...!!!

Mike Teavee

The most important thing we've learned, 
So far as children are concerned, 
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let 
Them near your television set-
Or better still, just don’t install 
The idiotic thing at all. 
In almost every house we've been, 
We've watched them gaping at the screen. 
They loll and slop and lounge about, 
And stare until their eyes pop out. 
(Last week in someone’s place we saw 
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.) 
They sit and stare and stare and sit 
Until they’re hypnotized by it, 
Until they’re absolutely drunk 
With all that shocking ghastly junk. 
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still, 
They don’t climb out the window sill, 
They never fight or kick or punch, 
They leave you free to cook the lunch 
And wash the dishes in the sink-
But did you ever stop to think, 
To wonder just exactly what 
This does to your beloved tot? 
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD! 
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD! 
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND! 
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND 
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND 
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND! 
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE! 
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE! 
HE CANNOT THINK-HE ONLY SEES! 
‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say, 
‘But if we take the set away, 
What shall we do to entertain 
Our darling children? Please explain!’ 
We’ll answer this by asking you, 
‘What used the darling ones to do? 
‘How used they keep themselves contented 
Before this monster was invented?’ 
Have you forgotten? Don’t you know? 
We’ll say it very loud and slow: 
THEY... USED... TO... READ! They’d READ and READ, 
AND READ and READ, and then proceed 
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks! 
One half their lives was reading books! 
The nursery shelves held books galore! 
Books cluttered up the nursery floor! 
And in the bedroom, by the bed, 
More books were waiting to be read! 
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales 
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales 
And treasure isles, and distant shores 
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars, 
And pirates wearing purple pants, 
And sailing ships and elephants, 
And cannibals crouching ‘round the pot, 
Stirring away at something hot. 
(It smells so good, what can it be? 
Good gracious, it’s Penelope.) 
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter 
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter, 
And Squirrel Nut-kin, Pigling Bland, 
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and- 
Just How The Camel Got His Hump, 
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump, 
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul, 
There’s Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole- 
Oh, books, what books they used to know, 
Those children living long ago! 
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray, 
Go throw your TV set away, 
And in its place you can install 
A lovely bookshelf on the wall. 
Then fill the shelves with lots of books, 
Ignoring all the dirty looks, 
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks, 
And children hitting you with sticks- 
Fear not, because we promise you 
That, in about a week or two 
Of having nothing else to do, 
They’ll now begin to feel the need 
Of having something to read. 
And once they start-oh boy, oh boy! 
You watch the slowly growing joy 
That fills their hearts. They’ll grow so keen 
They’ll wonder what they’d ever seen 
In that ridiculous machine, 
That nauseating, foul, unclean, 
Repulsive television screen! 
And later, each and every kid 

Will love you more for what you did...!!!

Not Tired

I will not go to bed.
I simply am not tired
I’d much prefer to stay awake
I feel so alive and wired,

Sleeping is a waste of time
Why sleep when you could play?
Imagine how much we’d get done,
If we always were awake.

I will not go to bed.
I’m not ready to rest
Just because you saw me yawn
doesn't mean I’m drowsy yet,

I’m wide awake
make no mistake
I will not go to bed.
I will not go to bed..

even though its warm and safe..
I’m not drooping my head,
But maybe... just in case..
I should go and close my eyes,

so they don’t get dry
from staring at the light
maybe I’ll just lay here a bit..

OK. Maybe I’ll say goodnight...!!!

Later the poem.

Later is my favorite time to do the things that must be done.
Right now I’m far too cozy in my chair.
I will be sure to pick my socks up as soon as Later comes,
But now I don’t much mind that they are there.

And I’ll Finnish that urgent assignment
that’s highlighted with lots of red ink,
and Later I’ll turn of the stove,
But first I need a moment to think

So stop shouting Please
And leave me in Peace

I’ll deal with the fire in my hair Later...!!!

The Walrus and the Carpenter

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright-
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done-
‘It’s very rude of him.’ she said,
‘To come and spoil the fun!’

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead-
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
‘If this were only cleared away,’
They said, ‘it would be grand.’

‘If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,’ the Walrus said,
‘That they could get it clear?’
‘l doubt it,’ said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

‘O Oysters, come and walk with us!
The Walrus did beseech.
‘A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.’

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head-
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

Out four young Oysters hurried up.
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat-
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more-
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
‘To talk of many things:
Of shoes- and ships- and sealing wax-
Of cabbages- and kings-
And why the sea is boiling hot-
And whether pigs have wings.’

‘But wait a bit,’ the Oysters cried,
‘Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!’
‘No hurry!’ said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

‘A loaf of bread,’ the Walrus said,
‘Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed-
Now, if you’re ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.’

‘But not on us!’ the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
‘After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!’
‘The night is fine,’ the Walrus said,
‘Do you admire the view?’

‘It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!’
The Carpenter said nothing but
‘Cut us another slice-
I wish you were not quite so deaf-
I've had to ask you twice!’

‘It seems a shame,’ the Walrus said,
‘To play them such a trick.
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!’
The Carpenter said nothing but
‘The butter’s spread too thick!’

‘I weep for you,’the Walrus said:
‘I deeply sympathize.’
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket- handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

‘O Oysters,’ said the Carpenter,
‘You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?’
But answer came there none-
And this was scarcely odd, because

They’d eaten every one...!!!