Children poems

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Soliloquy in Circles

© Ogden Nash

Being a father
Is quite a bother.You are as free as air
With time to spare,You're a fiscal rocket
With change in your pocket,And then one morn

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Possessions Are Nine Points Of Conversation

© Ogden Nash

Some people, and it doesn't matter whether they are paupers or millionaires, Think that anything they have is the best in the world just because it is theirs

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One Third Of The Calendar

© Ogden Nash

In January everything freezes.
We have two children. Both are she'ses.
This is our January rule:
One girl in bed, and one in school.

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Look What You Did, Christopher!

© Ogden Nash

In fourteen hundred and ninety-two,
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Somebody borrowed the fare in Spain
For a business trip on the bounding main,

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I Didn't Go To Church Today

© Ogden Nash

I didn't go to church today,
I trust the Lord to understand.
The surf was swirling blue and white,
The children swirling on the sand.

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The Lesson

© Maya Angelou

I keep on dying again.


Veins collapse, opening like the

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Timothy Winters

© Charles Causley

Timothy Winters comes to school
With eyes as wide as a football pool,
Ears like bombs and teeth like splinters:
A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters.

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Mike Teavee...

© Roald Dahl


The most important thing we've learned,

So far as children are concerned,

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Freedom

© Charles Péguy

GOD SPEAKS:

When you love someone, you love him as he is.

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The Old-Home Folks

© James Whitcomb Riley

  Who shall sing a simple ditty all about the Willow,
  Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray
  That dandles high the happy bird that flutters there to trill a
  Tremulously tender song of greeting to the May.

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Damascus, What Are You Doing to Me?

© Nizar Qabbani

3
I return to the womb in which I was formed . . .
To the first book I read in it . . .
To the first woman who taught me
The geography of love . . .
And the geography of women . . .

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The Beggar

© John Newton

Encouraged by thy word
Of promise to the poor;
Behold, a beggar, Lord,
Waits at thy mercy's door!
No hand, no heart, O Lord, but thine,
Can help or pity wants like mine.

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Estuary

© Gwen Harwood

To Rex Hobcroft

Wind crosshatches shallow water.

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Ultima Thule: From My Arm-Chair

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Am I a king, that I should call my own
  This splendid ebon throne?
Or by what reason, or what right divine,
  Can I proclaim it mine?

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Columbus

© Ogden Nash

Once upon a time there was an Italian,
And some people thought he was a rapscallion,
But he wasn't offended,
Because other people thought he was splendid,

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Children's Party

© Ogden Nash

May I join you in the doghouse, Rover?
I wish to retire till the party's over.
Since three o'clock I've done my best
To entertain each tiny guest. My conscience now I've left behind me,

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At the Vietnam War Memorial

© Craig Erick Chaffin

Black granite stretches its harsh, tapering wings
up to pedestrian-level grass
but sucks me down, here, at the intersection of names.
I forgive, I must, though I wish something
could heal this wound in the earth.

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Paragraphs from a Day-Book

© Marilyn Hacker

Cherry-ripe: dark sweet burlats, scarlet reverchons
firm-fleshed and tart in the mouth
bigarreaux, peach-and-white napoléons
as the harvest moves north

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Morning News

© Marilyn Hacker

Spring wafts up the smell of bus exhaust, of bread
and fried potatoes, tips green on the branches,
repeats old news: arrogance, ignorance, war.
A cinder-block wall shared by two houses