Archive for the ‘young poets’ Tag

11/04/2025 πŸ’—POETRY OF THE YOUNGπŸ’—   Leave a comment

In recent months the political world seems to have taken over virtually all discussions. While those discussions are of supreme importance, a constant drumbeat of gloom, doom, and lying takes its toll on a person. Todays post is my attempt to lighten the mood a little. Here are the thoughts and hopes of a much younger generation ( that hasn’t been scarred by an overload of political thinking.

❀️

By Jane Brown, United States

I like to feel my father’s whiskers,

They feel so very funny when I try to kiss him,

But when he shaves it does not tickle,

But still I wonder what my mother does.

❀️❀️

By Beverley Dinsdale, New Zealand

Dark fills the sky with his big black cloak,

You never hear him him come.

One by one the stars peep through,

Out comes the moon like a big yellow egg.

❀️❀️❀️

By Susan Heitler, United States

The candle screamed with fury,

Hot tears trickled down her face.

With figure slumped,

She lowly dwindled into shadows

❀️❀️❀️❀️

By Annabel Laurance, Uganda

I have a little brain

Tucked safely in my head

And another little brain

Which is in the air instead

That follow me, and plays with me

And talks to me in bed

The other one confuses me,

The one that’s in my head.

πŸ’•πŸ’•πŸ’•πŸ’•πŸ’•

SPECIAL THANKS TO RICHARD LEWIS

06/17/2025 “FROM THE MOUTHS OF BABES”   Leave a comment

I’d like once again to share some lovely poetry by the worlds children. These poems are sweet and heartfelt which isn’t unusual when written by the pure of heart. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have. The topic for today is PEOPLE.

πŸ‘¨β€πŸ‘©β€πŸ‘§β€πŸ‘¦

By Peter Shelton, Age 10, Australia

The children are singing,

their mouths open like sleepy fish.

Our teacher conducting the class

waves her arms

like a rhyme in water.

The girls sing high:

our ears ring for the sweetness.

Listeners stand in dazzling amazement.

✍🏻✍🏻✍🏻

By Stephie Silon, Age 10, United States

An empty bed

No arguments

No one to come home to

And all is dark

In day and night

I am all alone.

✍🏻✍🏻✍🏻

By David Amey, Age 10, England

My Uncle Jack collects door knobs;

Door knobs here, door knobs there

Door knobs simply everywhere;

Six on the window, twelve on the door

There’s hardly room for any more;

Door knobs on the light switch and the wall,

My Uncle Jack has got them all;

Blue ones, green ones, yellow one and red

And a row of gray ones on the bottom of his bed.

✍🏻✍🏻✍🏻

SPECIAL THANKS TO RICHARD LEWIS