Hover over a card to read the Poem.
POEM
Foreign Lands by Robert Louis Stevenson, 1913
Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the trunk with both my hands And looked abroad on foreign lands.
I saw the next door garden lie, Adorned with flowers, before my eye, And many pleasant places more That I had never seen before.
I saw the dimpling river pass And be the sky’s blue looking-glass; The dusty roads go up and down With people tramping into town.
If I could find a higher tree Farther and farther I should see, To where the grown-up river slips Into the sea among the ships,
To where the roads on either hand Lead onward into fairy land, Where all the children dine at five, And all the playthings come alive.
The poem describes pleasant places and a fairy land where playthings come alive. What feels appealing to you in this poem? Or what would you add?
POEM
Excerpt from ’Suzie Bitner Was Afraid of the Drain’ by Barbara Vance.
Crabby by Barbara Vance
I am a crab
Who walks the shore
And pinches toes all day.
If I were you
I’d wear some shoes
And not get in my way.
POEM
The Land of Counterpane by Robert Louis Stevenson, 1913
When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay
To keep me happy all the day.
And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills.
And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.
I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant Land of Counterpane.
POEM
Knoxville, Tennessee by Nikki Giovanni, 1994
I always like summer
best
you can eat fresh corn
from daddy’s garden
and okra
and greens
and cabbage
and lots of
barbecue
and buttermilk
and homemade ice-cream
at the church picnic
and listen to
gospel music
outside
at the church
homecoming
and go to the mountains with
your grandmother
and go barefooted
and be warm
all the time
not only when you go to bed
and sleep
POEM
The Caterpillar by Robert Graves, 1918
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A creeping, coloured caterpillar,
I gnaw the fresh green hawthorn spray,
I nibble it leaf by leaf away.
Down beneath grow dandelions,
Daisies, old-man’s-looking-glasses;
Rooks flap croaking across the lane.
I eat and swallow and eat again.
Here come raindrops helter-skelter;
I munch and nibble unregarding:
Hawthorn leaves are juicy and firm.
I’ll mind my business: I’m a good worm.
When I’m old, tired, melancholy,
I’ll build a leaf-green mausoleum
Close by, here on this lovely spray,
And die and dream the ages away.
Some say worms win resurrection,
With white wings beating flitter-flutter,
But wings or a sound sleep, why should I care?
Either way I’ll miss my share.
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A hungry, hairy caterpillar,
I crawl on my high and swinging seat,
And eat, eat, eat—as one ought to eat.
Can you think of something you really wanted but didn’t get–maybe a toy or a game? How did it feel to want it?
POEM
The Paradoxical Commandments by Kent M. Keith, 1968, 2001
People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
POEM
Eletelephony by Laura E. Richards
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant—
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone—
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)
Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee—
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)
POEM
A small dragon
l’ve found a small dragon in the woodshed.
Think it must have come from deep inside a forest because it’s damp and green and leaves are still reflecting in its eyes.
I fed it on many things, tried grass, the roots of stars, hazel-nut and dandelion, but it stared up at me as if to say, I need foods you can’t provide.
It made a nest among the coal, not unlike a bird’s but larger, it is out of place here and is mosttimes silent.
If you believed in it I would come
hurrying to your house to let you share this wonder, but I want instead to see
if you yourself will pass this way.
by Brian Patten
Permission granted by The Poetry Archive
POEM
A Snow Man by Anonymous, 1889
Oh, the beautiful snow!
We’re all in a glow—
Nell, Dolly, and Willie, and Dan;
For the primest of fun,
When all’s said and done,
Is just making a big snow man.
Two stones for his eyes
Look quite owlishly wise,
A hard pinch of snow for his nose;
Then a mouth that’s as big
As the snout of a pig,
And he’ll want an old pipe, I suppose.
Then the snow man is done,
And tomorrow what fun
To make piles of snow cannon all day,
And to pelt him with balls
Till he totters and falls,
And a thaw comes and melts him away.
POEM
See It Through by Edgar Guest, 1917
When you’re up against a trouble,
Meet it squarely, face to face;
Lift your chin and set your shoulders,
Plant your feet and take a brace.
When it’s vain to try to dodge it,
Do the best that you can do;
You may fail, but you may conquer,
See it through!
Black may be the clouds about you
And your future may seem grim,
But don’t let your nerve desert you;
Keep yourself in fighting trim
If the worst is bound to happen,
Spite of all that you can do,
Running from it will not save you,
See it through!
Even hope may seem but futile,
When with troubles you’re beset,
But remember you are facing
Just what other men have met.
You may fail, but fall still fighting;
Don’t give up, whate’er you do;
Eyes front, head high to the finish.
See it through!
POEM
Alligator Pie by Dennis Lee, 1974
Permission granted by The Poetry Archive
“Click on the name of the poem to read it”
POEM
The Mountain And The Squirrel by Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1928
The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel,
And the former called the latter
“Little prig.”
Bun replied,
“You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I’m not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry:
I’ll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track.
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut.”
Can you imagine why a mountain and a squirrel would envy each other? What can a squirrel do that a mountain can’t? And what does a mountain have that a squirrel doesn’t?
POEM
Overslept by Kenn Nesbitt, 2020
I overslept. I woke up late.
I had to rush. I couldn’t wait.
I grabbed my clothes. I threw them on.
And, in an instant, I was gone.
I ran to school. When I got there,
my friends and classmates stopped to stare.
I looked a mess, without a doubt.
I had my coat on inside out.
It seems I wore my sister’s shirt.
My trouser legs were caked with dirt.
One shoe was green. The other, red,
and underwear was on my head.
I thought that everyone would frown
and call me names and put me down.
But then, instead of what I feared,
my friends applauded, whooped, and cheered.
It turns out people think it’s cool
when you’re the worst-dressed kid in school.
“Overslept” copyright © 2020 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved. https://www.poetry4kids.com/
POEM
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement C. Moore
…And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes – how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow…
POEM
Jack and Jill, English nursery rhyme, c. 18th century
Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
Can you imagine how frustrating it would be to work hard for something and then lose it like Jack and Jill?
POEM
A bird came down the walk by Emily Dickinson, 1891
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.
And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad, —
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head
Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home
Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim.
The poem describes the bird’s eyes as frightened beads that hurried and glanced around. When you’re frightened, where do you notice it in your body?
POEM
The Bashful Earthquake by Oliver Herford, 1898
The Earthquake rumbled
And mumbled
And grumbled;
And then he bumped,
And everything tumbled—
Bumpyty-thump!
Thumpyty-bump!—
Houses and palaces all in a lump!
“Oh, what a crash!
Oh, what a smash!
How could I ever be so rash?”
The Earthquake cried.
“What under the sun
Have I gone and done?
I never before was so mortified!”
Then away he fled,
And groaned as he sped:
“This comes of not looking before I tread.”
Out of the city along the road
He staggered, as under a heavy load,
Growing more weary with every league,
Till almost ready to faint with fatigue.
He came at last to a country lane
Bordering upon a field of grain;
And just at the spot where he paused to rest,
In a clump of wheat, hung a Dormouse nest.
The sun in the west was sinking red,
And the Dormouse had just turned into bed,
Dreaming as only a Dormouse can,
When all of a sudden his nest began
To quiver and shiver and tremble and shake.
Something was wrong, and no mistake!
In a minute the Dormouse was wide awake,
And, putting his head outside his nest,
Cried: “Who is it dares disturb my rest?”
His voice with rage was a husky squeak.
The Earthquake by now had become so weak
He’d scarcely strength enough to speak.
He even forgot the rules of grammar;
All he could do was to feebly stammer.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s me.
Please don’t be angry. I’ll try to be—”
No one will know what he meant to say,
For all at once he melted away.
The Dormouse, grumbling, went back to bed,
“Oh, bother the Bats!” was all he said.
POEM
Trees by Joyce Kilmer, 1913
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
POEM
Afternoon on a hill by Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1917
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 lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down!
Which of these experiences makes you happy? Feeling the sun on your skin? Seeing colorful flowers, or green grass blowing in the wind? Or is it something else?
POEM
Albatross by Laura Mucha
Permission granted from The Poetry Archive
“Click on the name of the poem to read it”
POEM
Carrying Our Words by Ofelia Zepeda
Translated into English from O’odham by the poet.
’U’a g T-ñi’okı˘
T-ñi’okı˘ ’att ’an o ’u’akc o hihi
Am ka
wui dada.
S-ap ‘am o ’a: mo has ma
g kiod.
mat ’am ’ed.a betank ’i-gei.
’Am o ’a: mo he’es ’i-ge’ej,
mo hascu wud. i
gewkdagaj
mac ’ab amjed. behě g ñe’i.
Hemhoa s-ap ‘am o ’a: mac si has elid, mo d. ’i
.
We travel carrying our words.
We arrive at the ocean.
With our words we are able to speak
of the sounds of thunderous waves.
We speak of how majestic it is,
of the ocean power that gifts us songs.
We sing of our respect
and call it our relative
POEM
Unsung by Jessie Belle Rittenhouse
The songs I have not sung to you
Will wake me in the night
And hover in the dark like birds
Whose wings are tipped with light.
Like birds with restless, eager wings
That quiver for their flight,
The songs I have not sung to you
Will wake me in the night.
The poet regrets not singing to their loved one. Have you ever regretted not saying something to someone?
POEM
Dust of Snow by Robert Frost, 1923
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
POEM
A Million Little Diamonds
by Mary Francis Butts
A million little diamonds
Twinkled on the trees;
And all the little children cried,
“A jewel, if you please!”
But while they held their hands outstretched
To catch the diamonds gay,
A million little sunbeams came
And stole them all away.
POEM
We Wear The Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1895
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
Have you ever pretended to be something you’re not at school because you felt ashamed to admit what you really thought or what you really felt?
POEM
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise by Emily Dickinson, 1764
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
The maddest noise that grows, —
The birds, they make it in the spring,
At night’s delicious close.
Between the March and April line —
That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
Almost too heavenly near.
It makes us think of all the dead
That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
Made cruelly more dear.
It makes us think of what we had,
And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
Would go and sing no more.
An ear can break a human heart
As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
So dangerously near.
POEM
Hey, diddle, diddle by Mother Goose 1765
Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon!
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
And the dish ran off with the spoon!
POEM
It’s Fine Today by Douglas Malloch
Sure, this world is full of trouble
I ain’t said it ain’t.
Lord, I’ve had enough and double
Reason for complaint;
Rain and storm have come to fret me,
Skies are often gray;
Thorns and brambles have beset me
On the road — but say,
Ain’t it fine today?
What’s the use of always weepin’,
Making trouble last?
What’s the use of always keepin’
Thinkin’ of the past?
Each must have his tribulation —
Water with his wine;
Life, it ain’t no celebration,
Trouble? — I’ve had mine —
But today is fine!
It’s today that I am livin’,
Not a month ago.
Havin’; losin’; takin’; givin’;
As time wills it so.
Yesterday a cloud of sorrow
Fell across the way,
It may rain again tomorrow,
It may rain — but say,
Ain’t it fine today?
