This poem is published on The Dirigible Balloon website.
Poetry for Kids
Please read the disclaimer beneath the poem before using it.
It’s quarter past eight,I’ve got training at nine,I better be quick,or I won’t be on time.But my sister just saw me and pointed and said,I’ve a terrible, bad case ofBedhead. I better not lingerOr bother or brood,Or the coach will be worseThan her usual mood,But I’m worried it might be beginning to spread,this ominous-soundingBedhead. I hope it that it won’tHold me back on the pitch,But I’m starting to sneezeAnd I’m starting to itch,Perhaps I should stay home and lie down instead,And get rid of this bothersomeBedhead. It must be quite bad,This disease that I’ve got,‘Cause my Mum took one lookAnd she said I looked hot,Remember me fondly, long after I’m dead,From this dreadful disease,with its itch and its sneeze,this alarming and fast-actingBedhead.
We got a new pet donkey,We called him Lucky Pete,We put him in the garden,With a bale of hay to eat. We stood and watched our donkey,While Pete just watched us back,Dad said he might want privacy,To eat his little snack. But when we went back out there,We stopped in stunned surprise,To see the mess that Pete had made,Laid out before our eyes. He’d eaten the tomatoes,He’d gobbled all the beans,He’d munched on all the carrot tops,And all the other greens, He’d feasted on the fence posts,He’d chewed through dad’s new hat,He’d pulled the washing off the line,And nibbled most of that! He’d gorged on Mum’s gardenias,Devoured the roses too,He’d even chewed the chilli plants,And left a pile of poo. Mum sobbed, “We must return him,”Dad fumed, “He just can’t stay,”But I felt bad for Lucky Pete,And pleaded, “One more day!” We stood and watched our donkey,While Pete just watched…
I do maths in the morning while eating my toastAnd history later (I love that the most)I read five books a week (though it’s not nice to boast)I’m a regular, normal homeschooler. My lessons are finished by noon every day,Then I go out or stay in the garden and play.Later, there’s tennis, piano, ballet,I’m an active, athletic homeschooler. I visit museums when nobody’s there,And chat with the staff who explain things with care,I never have issues with what I should wear,I’m a bookish and brainy homeschooler. I converse with the neighbours, the plumber, the vet,And have meetups (where somebody always gets wet),I play Minecraft online with some friends that I’ve met,I’m a savvy and social homeschooler. My local librarian knows just what I like,When I ride into town on my scooter or bike,I even take books when we go on a hike,I’m creative and clever and nobody’s cooler,A free-thinking, free-wheeling,…
I’ve never been in a limousine,But I’ve sat on the back of a horse.I’ve pedalled a trike and a two-wheeled bike,with a bicycle bell, of course. I’ve travelled by train there and back againand sometimes transferred to a tram.I’ve stood on a bus, such a terrible fuss,In a terrible traffic jam. I’ve soared in a plane on a visit to Spain,Where I paddled a river canoe.I’ve sailed in a boat and I’ve sat on a float,And I’ve driven a car or two. I’ve ridden balloons over murky lagoons,I’ve scooted, I’ve skated, I’ve cruised.But there is a new word that I recently heard,A vehicle I’ve never used. I’ve travelled the Earth from New Jersey to Perth,So it’s clear that I love things vehicular.I don’t mean to complain but will someone explain,What precisely… exactly… specifically… is a funicular?
I am a young geologist,I study gems and rocks,And go fossicking for fossils,then add them to my box. I have all sorts of crystals,Some are very rare,Some I gathered from a beach,I found them everywhere. Some rocks are from volcanos,Some wash up on a shore,Some came from a quarry,Where there’s many, many more. My favourites are the shiny gemsWith colours clear and bright.From blackest black obsidian,To ones that let through light. There’s chrysocolla, jasper,Emerald, onyx, jade,Amethyst, carnelian.Their colours never fade. Maybe when I’m older,I’ll go digging when I’m free,And find a new gem never seen,And name it after me.
The cuttlefish seizesThe chance when it pleasesTo show off its prizes,Its colourful guises.When danger arisesThe cuttlefish choosesSome clever disguisesAnd brilliant ruses. The cuttlefish usesA plan it devises,A plan that confusesAnd often bemuses.A plan that comprisesIts inky surprisesThe cuttlefish oozes(sometimes hypnotises). The predator losesAnd off the prey breezes.The danger defusesAnd nervousness easesThe colour arisesThe cuttlefish snoozes.The end.
I’ll tidy my room after breakfast,I’ll tidy my room up today,I’ll pick up the Lego and take out the food,Please don’t take my Nintendo away. I’ll tidy my room up tomorrow,I’ll tidy it when I get home,I’ll fold all my clothes and I’ll empty the bin,Please leave my Nintendo alone. I’ll tidy my room soon, I promise,I’ll tidy it up spick and span,I’ll dust it and vacuum and open the blinds,Then I’ll play for as long as I can. Look! I’ve tidied my room like you wanted,I’ve even cleaned under the bed,I’m going to play my Nintendo right now…Oh, I can’t, ’cause the battery’s dead.
My mummy plays Minecraft, she’s not very good,She wanders the forests all day,And when it gets dark and the creepers come out,She puts her computer away. I promised to teach her, to give her a bed,To help her survive through the night,But she ran out food and she fell in a caveAnd a skeleton gave her a fright. Now my mummy plays Tetris, she’s not very good,But she plays it whenever she’s free,She can’t beat my time, she should just leave the games,To the Minecrafting experts like me. (c) Copyright Pamela Ueckerman (Pamela Jones) 2023. All rights reserved.