Funny Rhymes for Children (or Adults?) - Poems Written by a Child

I've loved to write since I was a child. When I was about 9 or 10, I put together a collection of my poems--handwritten on now faded lined paper. The pages are turned the opposite the way of the lines to allow for two poems per page, and the pre-cut holes are at the bottom of the pages.

The cover is quite fancy with its red and green Christmas paper decorated with my own drawing of a Christmas tree, colored with a green crayon. In pencil, the tree says "Book of Poems."

So this is where I got my start in poetry as a "published" poet. Mom surely feels honored that she was the first person to receive a copy of my self-published book for Christmas.

What fun it was to find this little treasure a few years ago and read it aloud in a serious voice for my family at Christmastime. I'm thinking that these poems written by a young child would probably actually be more fun for adults reading aloud to each other--perhaps with a glass of wine! For extra comical effect, it's perfect to read the poems with a most serious poetry voice--as if you were doing a public reading.

So we'll start the hilarity with a tribute to my family. Note the phrase "day by day," as it will be a common refrain. "By the way" is a close second as my nine year old mind tries to make these poems rhyme--for the most part, anyway.

My father is a working man.

My mother helps him all she can.

I go to school day by day.

Doug plays baseball, by the way.

Greg hardly ever wants to rest

and Steven is just a little pest.

But he, I guess, is just as sweet as all the rest.

"In our hay loft?" What hay loft? Oh, well, it was an attempt by a young poet to describe beauty.

A rose is a very wonderful thing.

I picked some last year

In the spring.

I picked the petals fragrant

and soft.

I scattered them around

In our hay loft.

I don't think I knew a Linda as a child, so is this just a vivid use of imagination? And get rid of the mice? Now, that is random!

Also, "as you can plainly see" is a nice filler phrase if you don't know what else to put in there.

Lazy Linda is very lazy

as you can plainly see.

She never does a single thing

but saves it all for me.

I wish I could make her

do one thing

Like sweep the floor

or dust everything.

and it really would be very nice

if she could get rid of all the mice.

Robin Redbreast? Really? And I am honoring this bird with a poetic shout-out?

I love the Robin Redbreast,

the dearest bird of all.

And when I hear her singing

I answer with this call:

Your beauty is marvelous

Your singing is cheerful

and everyone that is around

should get an earful!

What is this? My first attempt to write non-rhyming poetry after the first two lines?

Bees make honey.

Honey makes money.

Money buys apples

and birds sing

when apples are around.

This poet's first attempt to be clever? Christy really was the name I gave one of my childhood dolls.

Baby Christy is a very good baby.

She doesn't even cry.

She never eats, but always drinks,

and in her bed she lies.

The reason that she

never cries or eats

or never takes a fall

is very simple

as she can see

for she's only a little doll.

How very romantic for a nine year old!

The dreamboy of mine

just sits in the class.

He stares at the wall

and talks very fast.

If I should meet him

face to face

and walk hand in hand.

Then I would dress up

all in lace

and walk upon the land.

My family and I did take a summer vacation to Colorado one year, so I guess my muse made me write about it. Note again the phrase "day by day."

The use of "very" twice in a row must be a bygone poetic device.

Mountains in Colorado

are very, very pretty

Prettier than brooks or streams

or even an evening shadow.

People come to look at them

Day by Day.

Maybe even go to one

To run and play.

Hmmm . . . . Exploring my spirituality? Deep stuff.

Who am I?

How do you find out who you are?

I walk to the seashore.

I walk to the door.

I've got to find out

who I am before

I die and don't live no more.

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker kind of thing? I wonder if I have a companion poem called "Smiles" hidden away somewhere . . . .

Frowns! Frowns!

Everyone with frowns!

The baker has a frown.

The barber has a frown.

The mayor has a frown.

The farmer has a frown.

The baker's problem is that

there is a better baker than him.

The barber's problem

is worse than his.

He's out of business!

I don't believe this!

The mayor is having

problems with the city

and the farmer's farm

is all in pity.

"That's all I have to say." That's a good one! Attention, all poets, when you're stuck on a poem and can't think of what else to write, just add that line and you're done!

Tears are sorrowful.

They're sometimes terrible.

But sometimes, they are

such a comfort

when you need to cry.

It feels good to cry

when problems come your way

so goodbye tears.

That's all I have to say.

Mom made a lot of pies when I was growing up, but peach wasn't one we often had. And none of us had blue eyes. Ah, a young imagination running rampant! Hey, they rhyme, right? That's pretty much all we need!

Blue Eyes, Blue Eyes

I love blue eyes.

Peach Pies, Peach Pies,

I love peach pies.

Blue eyes are prettier

than the blue skies.

Peach pies are better

than any other pies.

Blue Eyes, Peach Pies,

Blue Eyes, Peach Pies.

The best things

Under the skies.

Oh, clever with the quiz part! And I only said "by day" instead of "day by day." What progress this little poet is making!

This little monkey

Is very funny.

He's from the circus.

He acts like a bunny.

He hops around in his

cage all day.

as people come and watch by day.

He's very happy as he is

and smart too!

Just give him a quiz!

I've never had a wart, but I guess my muse felt compelled to give this little girl that inspiration. And again, we have the common, all-encompassing phrase, "day by day."

Warts are terrible

all over your hands.

They are not the color

of rubberbands.

I don't really know

what color they are.

Maybe more of a pink,

but not the color of snow.

But I'm glad I don't have them

Is all I can say

so I won't have to look at them

Day by Day.

A tribute to mom is imperative. And let's throw in the "by the way" for good measure! It's a nice filler.

Mother is very special.

She takes care of us

when we are sick.

She cleans and cooks too.

Who she loves best,

She never takes her pick.

She's nice to talk to

Nice to go to

When problems come your way.

I'm just so glad I have her.

I love her, by the way.

Our other trick, poets: "as you can plainly see" is a great phrase for filling in a line.

Hmmm . . . I never called my dad "Father."

Father is very special.

He tries to support us.

He works all day

so to make a living.

He has to find a way.

I love him very much,

as you can plainly see

and as long as I live

I hope he really loves me.

Oh, so clever I was with this holiday poem!

On Halloween night

when it's very dark

Don't go in the park

or fall in a ditch.

'Cause you just might

meet up with a witch!

If you enter a cafe

and see a host.

Stay away from her

'Cause she's really a ghost.

I'm glad they keep their gifts "until they're not new." Forgive my child poet for being so lame.

Christmas is the best time of year

with snow on the ground,

No one with a frown--

Everyone is happy.

People give gifts

People receive gifts.

There's gifts around the tree.

And when everyone opens their gifts,

They shout out with glee.

They all love their gifts

Oh, yes, they do.

They will keep their gifts

Until they're not new.

When next Christmas comes

People will give gifts again.

They will receive gifts, too.

and then (again)

everything will be new.

I am finished.

I am done,

As you can plainly see.

Thanks for reading, everyone,

These childhood poems by me!

Thanks for sharing my lame, young start.

Please be forgiving. Don't tear it apart.

It's good to see you, by the way,

and just keep writing, DAY by DAY!