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I have carefully selected a number of children's poems from around the web that I thought you might enjoy. Additional poems will be added each week for your enjoyment.

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An Anthology of Children's Poems



The top of a hill
Is not until
The bottom is below.
And you have to stop
When you reach the top
For there's no more UP to go.


To make it plain
Let me explain:
The one most reason why
You have to stop
When you reach the top --- is:
The next step up is sky.

How To Tell The Top Of A Hill
  John Ciardi


The Goops they lick their fingers,
And the Goops they lick their knives;
They spill their soup on the tablecloth ---
Oh, they lead disgusting lives!
The Goops they talk while eating,
And loud and fast they chew;
And that is why I'm glad that I
Am not a Goop --- are you?

Table Manners
   Gelett Burgess (1866-1951)


The meanest trick I ever knew
Was one I know you never do.
I saw a Goop once try to do it,
And there was nothing funny to it.
He pulled a chair from under me
As I was sitting down; but he
Was sent to bed, and rightly, too.
It was a horrid thing to do!

A Low Trick
   Gelett Burgess (1866-1951)


I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one,
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one!

The Purple Cow
  Gelett Burgess (1866-1951)


When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.


My holes were empty like a cup.
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.

At the Seaside
  Robert Louis Stevenson


I'd like to be a lighthouse
All scrubbed and painted white.
I'd like to be a lighthouse
And stay awake all night
To keep my eye on everything
That sails my patch of sea;
I'd like to be a lighthouse
With the ships all watching me.

I'd Like to be a Lighthouse
  Rachel Lyman Field


Animal crackers, and cocoa to drink,
That is the finest of suppers, I think;
When I'm grown up and can have what I please
I think I will always insist upon these.


What do you choose when you're offered a treat?
When Mother says, 'What would you like best to eat?'
Is it waffles and syrup, or cinnamon toast?
It's cocoa and animal crackers that I love most!


The kitchen's the cosiest place I know:
The kettle is singing, the stove is aglow,
And there in the twilight, how jolly to see
The cocoa and animals waiting for me.


Daddy and Mother dine later with Kate,
With Mary to cook for them, Susan in wait;
But they don't have nearly as much fun as I
Who eat in the kitchen with Nurse standing by;
And Daddy once said, he would like to be me
Having cocoa and animals once more for tea!

Animal Crackers
   Christopher Morley


The stars are made of lemon juice,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


I wear my shoes inside out,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


My house goes walking every day,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


Dolls go dancing on the moon,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


The wind blows backwards all night long,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


Monkeys mumble in a jelly bean jungle,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


Candy tastes like soap, soap, soap,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


Monkeys eat the chimney smoke,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


Tigers sleep on an elephant snoot,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


Clouds hide in a hole in the sky,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)
Salmon slide down a hippos hide,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


My Teddy Bear sings out loud at night,
and rain makes applesauce.
(Oh, you're just talking silly talk)


Elbows grow on a tickle tree,
and rain makes applesauce.


Oh, you're just talking silly, silly talk


I know I'm talking silly talk...But


Rain makes applesauce.

Rain Makes Applesauce
   Julian Scheer and Marvin Bileck


If you do not shake the bottle,
None'll come and then a lot'll.

On Tomato Ketchup
   Delmont Hunt Heines


The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, anytime, to him
Is aris/toc/racy.

Pedigree
  Emily Dickinson


Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear;
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair.
So Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzy. Was he?

Fuzzy Wuzzy
  Anonymous


Way down South where bananas grow,
A grasshopper stepped on an elephant's toe.
The elephant said, with tears in his eyes,
'Pick on somebody your own size.'

Way Down South
  Anonymous


The ptarmigan is strange,
As strange as he can be;
Never sits on ptelephone poles
Or roosts upon a ptree.
And the way he ptakes pto spelling
Is the strangest thing pto me.

The Ptarmigan
  Anonymous


I wish that my room had a floor;
I don't care so much for a door.
  But this walking around
  Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore.
I Wish That My Room Had A Floor
  Gelett Burgess (1866-1951)


Arithmetic is where numbers fly
  like pigeons in and out of your head.
Arithmetic tells you how many you lose or win
   if you know how many you had
   before you lost or won.
Arithmetic is seven eleven all good children
   go to heaven --- or five six bundle of sticks.
Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your
   head to your hand to your pencil to your paper
   till you get the right answer....
If you have two animal crackers, one good and one bad,
   and you eat one and a striped zebra
   with streaks all over him eats the other,
   how many animal crackers will you have
   if somebody offers you five six seven and you say
   No no no and you say Nay nay nay
   and you say Nix nix nix?
If you ask your mother for one fried egg
   for breakfast and she gives you
   two fried eggs and you eat
   both of them, who is better in arithmetic,
   you or your mother?

'Arithmetic'
  Carl Sandburg


Into the endless dark
The lights of the buildings shine,
Row upon row,
Line upon glistening line.
Up and up they mount
Till the tallest seems to be
The topmost taper set
On a towering Christmas tree.

City Lights
  Rachel Lyman Field


In the morning the city
Spreads its wings
Making a song
In stone that sings.


In the evening the city
Goes to bed
Hanging lights
About its head.

City
  Langston Hughes


I'm glad that I
Live near a park
For in the winter
After dark
The park lights shine
As bright and still
As dandelions
On a hill.

The Park
  James S. Tippet


Nothing fairer than the light
On petals opening, gold and white,
To the morning, to the blue,
In a world of song and dew.


Nothing fairer than two eyes
That behold with shy surprise
The miracle that no man can stay ---
Darkness turning into day.

Early Morning Song
  Rachel Lyman Field


Her feet along the dewy hills
Are lighter than blown thistledown;
She bears the glamor of one star
Upon her violet crwon.


With her soft touch of mothering,
How soothing to the sense she seems!
She holds within her gentle hand
The quiet gift of dreams.

Dusk
  Clifton Scollard (1860-1932)


Come along in then, little girl!
Or else stay out!
But in the open door she stands,
And bites her lip and twists her hands,
And stares upon me, trouble-eyed;
'Mother,' she says, 'I can't decide!'

From A Very Little Sphinx
  Edna St. Vincent Millay


Goodnight.


Goodnight daylight
and playing trains;
goodnight books,
and bread and butter,
and games of make believe,
and brothers and sisters,
and father and mother.


Goodnight, God.
Take care of us while we sleep,
And you have a good night, too.


Amen.

Bedtime
  Madeline L'Engle


'Who are you with clustered light,
Little Sisters seven?'
'Crickets, chirping all the night
On the hearth of heaven.'

The Pleiads
  John Bannister Tabb


Stars over snow,
And in the west a planet
Swinging below a star ---
Look for a lovely thing and
  you will find it,
It is not far ---
  It never will be far.

  Sara Teasdale

When my brother Tommy
  Sleeps in bed with me,
       He  doubles  up
          and makes
            him self
            exactly
              like
                a
                V


And 'cause the bed is not so wide,
A part of him is on my side.

Two In Bed
  Abram Bunn Ross


    Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Flowers are closed and lambs are sleeping;
    Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
Stars are up, the moon is peeping;
    Lullaby, oh, lullaby!
While the birds are silence keeping,
    (lullaby, oh, lullaby.)
Sleep, my baby, fall a-sleeping,
    Lullaby, oh, lullaby!

Lullaby
  Christina Georgina Rossetti


I saw a star slide down the sky,
Blind the north as it went by,
Too burning and too quick to hold,
Too lovely to be bought or sold,
Good only to make wishes on
And then forever to be gone.

The Falling Star
  Sara Teasdale


Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.


When the blazing sun is set,
And the grass with dew is wet,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.


As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveller in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

The Star
  Jane Taylor


Little wind, blow on the hilltop,
Little wind, blow down the plain;
Little wind, blow up the sunshine,
Little wind, blow off the rain.

Little Wind
  Kate Greenaway, from 'Under The Window' 1910


Oh, wind, why do you never rest,
Wandering, whistling to and fro,
Bringing rain out of the west,
From the dim north bringing snow?

Oh, Wind
  Christina Georgina Rossetti, from 'Sing-Song'


Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.


Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.

Who Has Seen The Wind?
  Christina Giorgina Rossetti


Whenever the moon and stars are set,
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?


Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then
By he comes back at the gallop again.

Windy Nights
  Robert Louis Stevenson


January cold and desolate;
February dripping wet;
March wind ranges;
April changes;
Birds sing in tune
To flowers of May,
And sunny June
Brings longest day;
In scorched July
The storm-clouds fly,
Lightning-torn;
August bears corn,
September fruit;
In rough October
Earth must disrobe her;
Stars fall and shoot
In keen November;
And night is long
And cold is strong
In bleak December.

The Months
  Christina Giorgina Rossetti


Spring is showery, flowery, bowery.
Summer: hoppy, choppy, poppy.
Autumn: wheezy, sneezy, freezy.
Winter: slippy, drippy, nippy.

Four Seasons
  Anonymous


The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking


over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Fog
  Carl Sandburg, 1918


Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.


The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night ---


And I love the rain.

April Rain Song
  Langston Hughes (1902-1967)


I like it when it's mizzly
and just a little drizzly
so everything looks far away
and make-believe and frizzly.


I like it when it's foggy
and sounding very froggy.
I even like it when it rains
on streets and weepy windowpanes
and catkins in the polar tree
and me.

I Like It When It's Mizzly
  Aileen Fisher


I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.


I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.


And when the lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down.

Afternoon On A Hill
  Edna St. Vincent Millay


If I could see a little fish ---
That is what I just now wish!
I want to see his great round eyes
Always open in surprise.


I wish a water-rat would glide
Slowly to the other side;
Or a dancing spider sit
On the yellow flags a bit.


I think I'll get some stones to throw,
And watch the pretty circles show.
Or shall we sail a flower boat,
And watch it slowly --- slowly float?


That's nice --- because you never know
How far away it means to go;
And when tomorrow comes, you see,
It may be in the great wide sea.

On The Bridge
  Kate Greenaway


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