short poems for little people

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short poems for little people

Post  Guest on Tue Oct 04, 2011 12:29 am

...My grade 2, 3 & 4 kids are going to do some poetry readings at a luncheon for the old people in town (I haven't told them yet heh heh)

Does anyone have any favourite short poems (cinquain, haiku, limericks etc) that would be suitable?
We have a very limited library.


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Re: short poems for little people

Post  eddie on Thu Oct 06, 2011 2:54 pm

Is this the sort of thing you had in mind?


Most of us cut our teeth on the Goons, Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, et al, and have fond memories of that sense of the riduculous that pervaded those sketches which stretched our imaginations to the boundary, when we could say "I can relate to that!" Words crept into our vocabulary which made no sense to those who weren't fans of theirs. They gave a new horizon to our perspective of how we view life, and for us it has remained to keep us sane! There seems to be a 'safety valve' within us that switches on when things get tough which we turn to, and from which all great comedy seems to spring from. Spike Milligan is one of those geniuses and we have much pleasure in presenting a selection of some of the poems he wrote for his children entitled

"Silly Verse for Kids"

Ant and Elephant

Said a tiny Ant
To the Elephant
"Mind how you tread in this clearing!"

But alas! Cruel fate!
She was crushed by the weight
Of an Elephant, hard of hearing


Say Bazonka every day
That's what my grandma used to say
It keeps at bay the Asian Flu'
And both your elbows free from glue.
So say Bazonka every day
(That's what my grandma used to say)

Don't say it if your socks are dry!
Or when the sun is in your eye!
Never say it in the dark
(The word you see emits a spark)
Only say it in the day
(That's what my grandma used to say)

Young Tiny Tim took her advice
He said it once, he said it twice
he said it till the day he died
And even after that he tried
To say Bazonka! every day
Just like my grandma used to say.

Now folks around declare it's true
That every night at half past two
If you'll stand upon your head
And shout Bazonka! from your bed
You'll hear the word as clear as day
Just like my grandma used to say!


Things that go 'bump' in the night
Should not really give one a fright.
It's the hole in each ear
That lets in the fear,
That, and the absence of light!

Down the Stream the Swans All Glide

Down the stream the swans all glide
It's quite the cheapest way to ride.
Their legs get wet,
Their tummies wetter
I think after all
The bus is better


Eileen Carroll
Had a barrel
Filled with writhing eels
And just for fun
She swallowed one;
Now she knows how it feels

Go North, South, East, and West, Young Man

Drake is going west, lads
So Tom is going East
But tiny Fred
Just lies in bed,
The lazy little beast


Through every nook and every cranny
The wind blew in on poor old Granny
Around her knees, into each ear
(And up nose as well, I fear)

All through the night the wind grew worse
It nearly made the vicar curse
The top had fallen off the steeple
Just missing him (and other people)

It blew on man, it blew on beast
It blew on nun, it blew on priest
It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-
But most of all, it blew on Granny!


Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
'I'll do a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use,
2B or not 2B?'


Mountains should have holes in
To see the other side.
By observing the view thru this aperture
Would save a considerable ride.

Jumbo Jet

I saw a little elephant standing in my garden,
I said 'You don't belong in here', he said 'I beg you pardon?',
I said 'This place is England, what are you doing here?',
He said 'Ah, then I must be lost' and then 'Oh dear, oh dear'.

'I should be back in Africa, on Serengeti's Plain',
'Pray, where is the nearest station where I can catch a train?'.
He caught the bus to Finchley and then to Mincing lane,
And over the Embankment, where he got lost, again.

The police they put him in a cell, but it was far too small,
So they tied him to a lampost and he slept against the wall.
But as the policemen lay sleeping by the twinkling light of dawn,
The lampost and the wall were there, but the elephant was gone!

So if you see an elephant, in a Jumbo Jet,
You can be sure that Africa's the place he's trying to get!

Lady B's Fleas

Lady Barnaby takes her ease
Knitting over coats for fleas
By this kindness fleas are smitten
that's why she's very rarely bitten.


Urgle urgle urgle
Whatever is that sound?
Urgle urgle urgle!!
It's coming from that mound!!
Gurgle gurgle gurgle!
That's urgle with a G!!
The sound that people make I hear
When drowning in the sea!
MacGurgle hic! MacGurgle hic!
Ah, now it's clear to me
A Scotsman drowning in a whiskey vat,
A happy death and free!!

Malice at Buckingham Palace

Outside Buckingham Palace
A dog was barking one day
When out of a house
Came a chocolate mouse
And frightened that doggie away.

And so that chocolate mousie
Was taken to the Queen-
Who swallowed him up
With a gobbledy glup
I do think that was mean.


Maveric Prowles
Had Rumbling Bowles
That thundered in the night.
It shook the bedrooms all around
And gave the folks a fright.
The doctor called;
He was appalled
When through his stethoscope
He heard the sound of a baying hound,
And the acrid smell of smoke.
Was there a cure?
'The higher the fewer'
The learned doctor said,
Then turned poor Maveric inside out
And stood him on his head.
'Just as I thought
You've been and caught
An Asiatic flu -
You musn't go near dogs I fear
Unless they come near you.'
Poor Maveric cried.
He went cross-eyed,
His legs went green and blue.
The doctor hit him with a club
And charged him one and two.
And so my friend
This is the end,
A warning to the few:
Stay clear of doctors to the end
Or they'll get rid of you.

Mrs Dighty

Mrs Dighty
In her nightie
Walking in the dark

Trod upon
A puppy dog's tail
And made the creature bark.

Mrs Dighty
In her nightie
Let the puppy go

By lifting up
Her instep
And raising her
Big toe.

On the Ning Nang Nong

On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
And the Monkeys all say Boo!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots Jibber Jabber Joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang!
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So it's Ning Nang Nong!
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning!
Trees go Ping!
Nong Ning Nang!
The mice go Clang!
What a noisy place to belong,
Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!


The people who live
On the Oojah-ka-Piv
Stand around in bundles of nine

When asked how it feels
They reply 'Curried Eels'!
Otherwise - everything's going fine!


Tis due to pigeons
That alight
On Nelson's hat
That makes it white.


Why is there no monument
To Porridge in our land?
It it's good enough to eat,
It's good enough to stand!

On a plinth in London
A statue we should see
Of Porridge made in Scotland
Signed, "Oatmeal, O.B.E."
(By a young dog of three)

Questions, Quistions & Quoshtions

Daddy how does an elephant feel
When he swallows a piece of steel?
Does he get drunk
And fall on his trunk
Or roll down the road like a wheel?

Daddy what would a pelican do
If he swallowed a bottle of glue?
Would his beak get stuck
Would he run out of luck
And lose his job at the zoo?

Son tell me tell me true
If I belted you with a shoe
Would you fall down dead?
Would you go up to bed?
Either of those would do


There are holes in the sky
Where the rain gets in,
But they're ever so small
That's why rain is thin.


By a well-known National Health Victim No. 3908631

There are many diseases,
That strike people's kneeses,
Scorflufus! is one by name
It comes from the East
Packed in bladders of yeast
So the Chinese must take half the blame.

There's a case in the files
Of Sir Barrington-Pyles
While hunting a fox one day
Shot up in the air
And remained hanging there!
While the hairs on his socks turned grey!

Aye! Scorflufus had struck!
At man, beast, and duck.
And the knees of the world went Bong!
Some knees went Ping!
Other knees turned to string
From Balham to old Hong Kong.

Should you hold your life dear,
Then the remedy's clear,
If you're offered some yeast - don't eat it!
Turn the offer down flat-
Don your travelling hat-
Put an egg in your boot - and beat it!

Soldier Freddy

Soldier Freddy
Was never ready,
But Soldier Neddy,
Unlike Freddy
Was always ready
And steady.

That's why,
When soldier Neddy
Is home in beddy.


American Detectives
Never remove their hats
When investigating murders
In other people's flats.

P.S. Chinese Tecs
Are far more dreaded!
And they always appear


Little worm - wiggle wiggle,
You make me and my sister giggle.
You live in mud,
You live in wet,
Yet never ever see a vet.
You must be very healthy worm,
Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Squirm.

The Gap Minder

Posts : 7840
Join date : 2011-04-11
Age : 60
Location : Desert Island

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Re: short poems for little people

Post  Constance on Thu Oct 06, 2011 11:02 pm

blue moon wrote:...My grade 2, 3 & 4 kids are going to do some poetry readings at a luncheon for the old people in town (I haven't told them yet heh heh)

Does anyone have any favourite short poems (cinquain, haiku, limericks etc) that would be suitable?
We have a very limited library.

Great poems! Moonie, I bet the kids and the old folks will love them!


Posts : 500
Join date : 2011-04-11
Age : 59
Location : New York City

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Re: short poems for little people

Post  Guest on Fri Oct 07, 2011 11:11 pm

...thanks eddie...the kids've been creating rhymes and learning about beat (I forgot to say that poetry is the genre they are to be 'taught' this term). So far I've introduced them to these poems I found by by Jack Prelutsky. cheers

As Soon as Fred Gets Out of Bed

As soon as Fred gets out of bed,
his underwear goes on his head.
His mother laughs, "Don't put it there,
a head's no place for underwear!"
But near his ears, above his brains,
is where Fred's underwear remains.

At night when Fred goes back to bed,
he deftly plucks it off his head.
His mother switches off the light
and softly croons, "Good night! Good night!"
And then, for reasons no one knows,
Fred's underwear goes on his toes.

Dora Diller

'My stomach's full of butterflies!'
lamented Dora Diller.
Her mother sighed. 'That's no surprise,
you ate a caterpillar!'

Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!


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