Kid's Poems
Hi is a word that means hello,
You say it all the time.
When you meetn, when you speak,
It sounds just fine.
The trees green, summer leaves,
Turn brown and lay upon the ground,
At Autumn's beck and call.
The strong trees stand tall,
Against the wind, they seldom fall.
In the dark of night,
They all look the same.
In the light of day,
They are as different as you and I.
A wise old owl, sittin' in an old tree,
Gave a hoot to tell me,
That this is his territory.
With a screech and a hoot
He prowls for food at night.
But he's back in his nest,
Ready for sleep and rest,
By morning's first light.
Winter is frozen feathery flakes,
Falling down.
Falling silently to the frozen ground.
The bare trees crackle,
In the frozen air.
The crunch of my footsteps,
I walk here and there.
At last cozy and warm,
Asleep in my bed.
As I dream of springtime,
And flowers in bloom.
Black is the color of night,
When there is not a star in sight.
The taste of licorice bubble gum,
And the rolling of a drum.
Black is like an oil well,
And the pain after we fell.
Black is a blank stare,
Or the color of a raven's hair.
Black is the color of an old dirty shoe,
The one that no longer fits you.
Black is a cat that will screech and howl,
And arch it's back while on the prowl.
Black is the color of a utensil,
And the lead in a number two pencil.
Black is the color of old, slushly slush,
Or the color of mud that hits the bus.
A long time ago, B.C., I'm told,
There was no mary, no baby Jesus,
Born in the cold.
I try to picture this in my mind,
No Christmas tree, no presents
Christmas morning to find.
No flickering lights, no candles aglow,
No Christmas Eve service to warm your soul.
Christmas is more than a birthday, you see,
Christmas is a gift from God,
To you and me.
