Reading Level: Grade 5

Poems suitable for reading by 10-11 year olds.

I Wrote This Little Poem

I wrote this little poem.
It was so much fun to write
that I scribbled through the afternoon,
the evening, and the night.

When the morning sun was rising
and the sky was growing light,
I went searching for some breakfast
but no breakfast was in sight.
(If you’ve ever needed breakfast
then you’ll understand my plight.)
I was feeling fairly famished
so, although it isn’t right,
I picked up this little poem
and I took a tiny bite.
It was utterly delicious!
It was such a sheer delight
that I nibbled through the afternoon,
the evening, and the night.

When the morning sun was rising
and the sky was growing light,
I went searching for this poem
but no poem was in sight.
So I wrote it down again and
it was so much fun to write
that I scribbled through the afternoon,
the evening, and the night.

If you think you know what happened next,
I think you may be right.

I Listen to My Chicken

I listen to my chicken
as she sings her cheerful song.
I’m tickled with my turkey
as he gobbles right along.

My duck sings so delightfully.
I love my rooster’s rap,
and when my Cornish game hen croons
it makes me want to clap.

I give my goose a gander
and I giggle as she chimes,
for when it comes to poultry
I prefer the kind that rhymes.

Poor Cinderella

Poor Cinderella, whose stepmom was mean,
could never see films rated PG-13.
She hadn’t a cell phone and no DVD,
no notebook computer or pocket TV.
She wasn’t allowed to play video games.
The tags on her clothes had unfashionable names.
Her shoes were not trendy enough to be cool.
No limousine chauffeur would drive her to school.
Her house had no drawing room; only a den.
Her bedtime, poor darling, was quarter past ten!

Well one day Prince Charming declared that a ball
would be held in his honor and maidens from all
over the kingdom were welcome to come
and party to techno and jungle house drum.

But Poor Cinderella, with nothing to wear,
collapsed in her stepmother’s La-Z-Boy chair.
She let out a sigh, with a lump in her throat,
then sniffled and picked up the TV remote.
She surfed channel zero to channel one-ten
then went back to zero and started again.
She watched music videos, sitcoms and sports,
commercials and talkshows and weather reports.

But no fairy godmother came to her side
to offer a dress or a carriage to ride.
So Poor Cinderella’s been sitting there since,
while one of her stepsisters married the Prince.
She sits there and sadly complains to the screen,
if only her stepmother wasn’t so mean.

A Centaur Goes Out Shopping

There’s nothing like a shopping spree
to elevate my mood;
the joy of filling shopping carts with
clothing, toys and food.

I’m something of a clotheshorse;
I can never have enough.
I go out shopping every day
to buy a bunch more stuff.

I hang around the shopping mall
and corner grocery store.
I’m fond of farmers markets
and garage sales I adore.

I love the thrill of bargain hunting.
Sales are oh so nice.
You’ll find I frequent flea marts
just to haggle over price.

So if you’d like to learn to shop
but find you need a mentor,
I hope you’ll come and visit me
for I’m The Shopping Centaur.

Maine Event

A man was getting married
to his fiancée in Maine.
He stepped upon her wedding dress
and there he caught the train.

He rode the train to Kansas
with its amber fields of grain,
so when he disembarked
he found he’d landed in a plain.

He flew the plane to Norway,
and was greeted by the Norse,
But Norway’s rather chilly
so he got a little hoarse.

He claimed that he could ride the horse,
but as the man was tryin’,
they saw that he had told a fib,
which means they caught him lyin’.

He saddled up the lion
but because it had no rein,
he held onto the lion’s fur
so now he’s back in Maine.

Fernando the Fearless

We’re truly in awe of
Fernando the Fearless
who needed no net
for the flying trapeze.

Alas, what a shame
it’s surpisingly difficult
catching a bar
in the midst of a sneeze.

Santa’s Beard

He wasn’t too good with a razor
and every time he would try
Kris Kringle would cut himself shaving,
so badly it caused him to cry.

The townspeople laughed when they saw him
with cut marks all over his face.
He felt so embarrassed and foolish
he’d lower his head in disgrace.

So one day he threw out his razor,
and all of the townspeople cheered!
No longer would Santa be shaving.
Instead he was growing a beard!

But though he has given up shaving
and grown out a beard white and thick,
most folks still remember those cut marks
and that’s why they call him “Saint Nick.”

April Fool’s Day

Mackenzie put a whoopie cushion
on the teacher’s chair.
Makayla told the teacher
that a bug was in her hair.

Alyssa brought an apple
with a purple gummy worm
and gave it to the teacher
just to see if she would squirm.

Elijah left a piece of plastic
dog doo on the floor,
and Vincent put some plastic vomit
in the teacher’s drawer.

Amanda put a goldfish
in the teacher’s drinking glass.
These April Fool’s Day pranks
are ones that you could use in class.

Before you go and try them, though,
there’s something I should mention:
The teacher wasn’t fooling
when she put us in detention.

Mr. Meecher, Science Teacher

Mr. Meecher, science teacher,
made a complicated creature,
like a science fiction feature,
in the classroom yesterday.
It was such a weird creation,
this fantastic formulation
was a magical mutation
that could undulate and sway.

It would wobble, it would wiggle.
It would jostle, it would jiggle,
making all the students giggle
as it bopped and bounced around.
It was stumbling and unstable.
Mr. Meecher was unable
to control it on the table,
and it tumbled to the ground.

It was jamming, it was jumping.
It was boogieing and bumping.
It was thundering and thumping,
like a disco dancing blob.
Mr. Meecher tried to grab it,
but he couldn’t seem to nab it;
It would scramble like a rabbit.
It would duck and weave and bob.

So he gave the thing a kick. It
then became a sticky wicket.
It was tricky, it was quick; it
promptly tackled him instead.
Now you know why Mr. Meecher,
our intrepid science teacher,
has a complicated creature
disco dancing on his head.

This Morning Is Our History Test

This Morning Is Our History Test

This morning is our history test.
I’ve pinned my notes inside my vest.
Inside my coat I wrote my notes,
including dates and famous quotes.
I’ve written more upon my hand
that only I can understand,
and in my socks and sleeves I stowed
my scribbled notes in secret code.

I’ve written down so many names
of winners of Olympic games,
of buildings, people, places too,
from Tennessee to Timbuktu.
I even copied down a piece
on ancient Rome and ancient Greece,
plus everything from Shakespeare’s plays
to who invented mayonnaise.

I came to school so well prepared.
I wasn’t nervous, wasn’t scared.
But here it is, the history test.
I look inside my coat and vest
to get the dates and famous quotes
and find I cannot read my notes.
So much for Shakespeare, Greece and Rome.
I left my glasses back at home.