Posts Tagged ‘children's poetry’

Math

April 10, 2022

Eights and sevens
Threes and twos
Math brings everything
Into view

Trapezoid, rhombus
Cubes and squares
Imagine, calculate
And compare

Fraction, cosine
Denominator
Essential tools
To make us greater

Find the difference
Plot the graph
Perceive, predict
And build with math

Engineer, geologist
Statistician, nurse
Math paints a picture
Of the universe

Tessellation
Infinity
Contemplating
Reality

by Richard W. Bray

the love of a child

July 17, 2021

unruly, rambunctious, exhausting and wild
there’s no greater love than the love of a child

boundless, colossal, extending for miles
there is no restraining the love of a child

needy and hopeful, touching and mild
the heaviest burden, the love of a child

investing your marrow, refunded in smiles
there’s no greater love than the love of a child

by Richard W. Bray

Henny Henny Penny

May 22, 2021








Henny Henny Penny says
“The sky is falling down
Pack up everything you got
And get out of town”

Henny Henny Penny says
“It’s never been this bad
The world is off its rocker
And everyone is mad”

Henny Henny Penny says
“Life don’t make no sense
I need a load of bricks
To build a bigger fence”

Henny Henny Penny says
“Never go outside
It’s a crazy crazy world
So find a place to hide”

Henny Henny Penny says
“Protect your mental health
You don’t want to go crazy
Like everybody else”

By Richard W. Bray

Fancy Land

May 24, 2018

All is grand in Fancy Land
With towering mushrooms growing wild
There’s purple skies that mesmerize
And no one ever hurts a child

The unicorn band in Fancy Land
Plays heavenly tunes with a thundering beat
Wishes are granted and all is enchanted
And everyone has enough to eat

Hate is banned in Fancy Land
Everyone lives how they want to be
An endless sensation of happy creation
Where all the creatures are roaming free

You’re welcome to visit Fancy Land
As long as the magic lives inside you
With access forbid to all but kids
But grownups wanna go there too

by Richard W. Bray

Wrap your arms around a rainbow

March 31, 2018

Silly, eager, joyful
The ignorance of youth
I ain’t being gloomy
I’m just telling you the truth

Dreary dismal angry
With a double dose of mad
Beauty’s all around you
But you’re hiding in your sad

Silly losers dancing round
Pretending life is fair
Nothing really matters
And the universe don’t care

Grouchy grumpy nasty crusty
Cranky crabby sour
Angry peeved and surly
You’re complaining every hour

If you knew what I know
You’d lose than silly grin
Your life’ll end in misery
You’re never gonna win

Wrap your arms around a rainbow
Grab a moonbeam — hug a friend
Love’s the only thing
That makes you richer when you spend

by Richard W. Bray

Alliterative Animal Kingdom

April 8, 2013

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Round the rampant rugged rocks
Rude and ragged rascals run.

W.H. Auden

Queasy koalas quarrel and quibble
Noisy gnus nag and nibble
Hefty horses heave and hoe
Shameless sheep shop and show

Playful pigs prance and preen
Careful cats cook and clean
Dancing dogs dally and drink
Thirteen thoroughbreds thank and think

Buoyant bunnies broil and bake
Rampant rhinos rush and rake
Slippery seals splash and splish
While wayward weasels wonder and wish

by Richard W. Bray

The Terror of Suffix County

March 2, 2013

Annie’s destructful brother
Is a boogerypoopish mess.
Others have botherly brothers,
But Willie’s a vexsome pest.

Annie’s funtastic birthday
Was a jubilatious delight
Till Willie stealthed into her bedroom
Beneath the dimful light.

When the girls were finally sleepish
They detectified Willie’s disguise.
He was costumated in undies.
The girls were were horrorized.

Annie was fully rageistic.
Screamfully, she cried:
Abandonate this monster.
He must be porchified.”

Her parents wisefully noted
That though they were temptified,
They’d be keeping her boisterly brother.
Annie felt beastish inside.

Richard W. Bray

Lost

January 2, 2013

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I checked the desk
I checked the drawer
I checked the chair
I checked the door
I checked my suit
I checked my coat
I checked my truck
I checked my boat

Where can they be
Those blasted keys?
Where would I be
If I were keys?

I looked here
And I looked there
I even said
A little prayer
I looked sooner
I looked later
I even checked
My ‘frigerator

Did I put them in my pants?
Or did I leave them in my car?
They can run and they can hide
But they will not get very far

Richard W. Bray

Hundred Dollar Rip-Off

June 6, 2012

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It was advertised as a chance to have our poetry critiqued by a real live published children’s poet.

We were instructed to bring samples of our work.

So I paid $100 dollars to attend a half-day “poetry workshop” at a lovely private school located in lovely Pacific Palisades, California put on by the SCBWI (the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators).

Like the several women and one other man who showed up at eight AM that morning, I was percolating with the hope of discovery.  This would be my Dear Mr. Henshaw moment when an authentic published children’s author was going to tell me that I had what it takes to succeed.

But the real live children’s poet who ran this seminar had no intention of soiling her fine artistic temperament by actually reading any our work herself. Instead, we were put into groups and instructed to pass our poems around and leave comments on each other’s work. I got this gem of a comment on my poem My Funny Farm: “Why don’t you try rewriting it without using rhyme?”

In order to kill the last half hour of the seminar without having to engage in a direct one on one conversation with any of us, the Poetess in Charge instructed everyone to place one of her belongings on our respective tables and then each of us was to write a poem about something someone else had supplied.  We were given fifteen minutes to complete this task.

When the woman leading the seminar asked if anyone wanted to read, the women at my table insisted that I share mine. It got a raucous round of laughter, which did not please our instructor one bit. Here’s the poem I wrote that day:

Ode to a Homeopathic PMS Remedy

Cranky, puffy, angry days
Aren’t relieved too many ways
But a homeopathic remedy
Might be what it takes to see
That PMS won’t ruin my day
Now it’s time to go and play

Then I had a nice lunch on the beach in Malibu and went home.

by Richard W. Bray

Ghosts

October 23, 2010

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Ghosts

Sleeping in my chamber
I was awakened by a sound
Oblivious to danger
I got up to look around

Darkly beckoned onward
I chased a ghost that night
It led me down a hallway
I could not contain my fright

It hovered near a doorway
And exploded on the floor
And a thousand little spirits
Scampered neath the door

Hesitating for a moment
I summoned all my guts
And thought, “If I’m not dreaming
I must be going nuts.”

Placing hand on doorknob
I pushed open the creaking door
I didn’t know what I was seeking
I had no wish to explore—

The room was filled with goblins
And other creatures of lore
I tried to avert my eyeballs
As the specter began to pour

Red liquid into a chalice
But it did not look like wine
I wondered whose house this was
Surely it couldn’t be mine

I walked up to the fellow, knees quaking
It was time to make a stand
And with my fist ashaking
I said, “I do demand

That you and ghoulish posse
Vacate my home forthwith
I’m not one to be haunted
By creatures out of myth!”

Suddenly there was silence
All eyes affixed to me
I feared they’d do me violence
It seemed an eternity

The specter appeared to smile
And with a wave of his hand
He sent the other monsters
To some foreign land

He looked straight in my eye
And said, “Let me explain
My creepy friends and I
Live inside of your brain”

Then I was awakened
By a ringing telephone
I jumped up forsaken
No time to be alone

I picked up the receiver
A voice much like my own:
“Now you can be a believer”
Static. Click. Dial tone.

by Richard W. Bray

(Since it’s that season, you can find more scary poems here, here, here, and here)