Reading Level: Grade 2

Poems suitable for reading by 7-8 year olds.

Grave Humor

grave-humor

Here lies the body of someone named Dave.
Out walking at midnight he fell in this grave.
He wouldn’t be dead and he wouldn’t be buried,
if only he’d turned on that flashlight he carried.

Here lies Art. He wasn’t smart.
Went outside and threw a dart.
Threw it straight up in the air.
Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

At the zoo, Melinda Sue,
first turned purple. Then turned blue.
How was anyone to know a
girl would try to hug a boa?

Bowling in the bowling alley
was the end for our friend Sally.
She got a strike, and that was all.
Should have let go of the ball.

This lesson learned by Earnest
will keep you safe from harm:
Elephants like peanuts.
They also like your arm.

We may never know
what happened to Flo.
She was scrubbing the bowl with a brush.
She let out a yelp
and what sounded like, “Help!”
and the last thing we heard was a flush.

Wayne the Stegosaurus

wayne-the-stegosaurus

Meet the stegosaurus, Wayne.
He doesn’t have the biggest brain.
He’s long and heavy, wide and tall,
but has a brain that’s extra small.

He’s not the brightest dinosaur.
He thinks that one plus one is four.
He can’t remember up from down.
He thinks the sky is chocolate brown.

He wears his bow tie on his tail
and likes to eat the daily mail.
When playing hide-and-seek he tries
to hide by covering his eyes.

He thinks that black is really white.
He’s sure the sun comes out at night.
He thinks that water grows on trees
and when it’s hot he starts to freeze.

He’s happy when he’s feeling ill.
He likes to dance by standing still.
And when it’s time to go to bed,
he puts bananas on his head.

He thinks his name is Bob, not Wayne,
but that’s what happens when your brain
(although you’re big and brave and spiny)
is very, very, very tiny.

Back-to-School Shopping

back-to-school-shopping

My sleeves are too short
and my jeans are too tight.
My shirt is so small
that it doesn’t fit right.

My hat is too snug
and my socks all have holes.
My shoes are worn out
on the sides and the soles.

My mom says it’s time
to go shopping for more.
She wants me to get
some new clothes at the store.

She begs and cajoles,
but I simply say, “No.
I want to stay home.
I would rather not go.”

While new ones may fit
in the sleeves and the toes,
the old ones I have
are my favorite clothes.

I Didn’t Go Camping

i-didnt-go-camping

I didn’t go camping.
I didn’t go hiking.
I didn’t go fishing.
I didn’t go biking.

I didn’t go play
on the slides at the park.
I didn’t watch shooting stars
way after dark.

I didn’t play baseball
or soccer outside.
I didn’t go on an
amusement park ride.

I didn’t throw Frisbees.
I didn’t fly kites,
or have any travels,
or see any sights.

I didn’t watch movies
with blockbuster crowds,
or lay on the front lawn
and look at the clouds.

I didn’t go swimming
at pools or beaches,
or visit an orchard;
and pick a few peaches.

I didn’t become
a guitarist or drummer,
but, boy, I played plenty
of Minecraft this summer.

My Mother Said to Do My Chores

my-mother-said-to-do-my-chores

My mother said to do my chores,
to dust the shelves and mop the floors,
and wipe the walls and wind the clocks,
and scoop the kitty’s litter box,
and walk the dog and feed the fishes,
and wash and dry the dirty dishes,
and clean my room and take a bath,
and read a book and do my math,
and pick up all my Lego blocks,
and put away my shoes and socks,
and hang my shirts and fold my pants,
and water all the potted plants,
and organize my toys and games,
and straighten up the picture frames,
and polish all the silverware,
and brush my teeth and comb my hair,
and rake the leaves and mow the lawn,
and on and on and on and on.

She said I’ll get to have some fun
as soon as all my chores are done.

With all the chores I have to do
until my mother says I’m through,
like study for an hour or two,
and peel potatoes and stir the stew,
and fix a vase with crazy glue,
and practice tuba till I’m blue,
and wash the dog with pet shampoo,
and sweep the chimney and the flue,
and scrub the tub and toilet too,
and pick up piles of puppy poo…

It looks like I’ll be ninety three
before I get to watch TV.

im rlly gd @ txting

im rlly gd @ txting.
i do it all day lng.
im spedy on the keybrd
n my thms r supr strng.

i txt wth all my fmly.
i txt wth all my frnz.
n i rply 2 evry txt
tht nebdy senz.

id rthr keep on txting
thn go outsd n play.
i thnk i prbly snd abot
a thsnd txts a day.

im gld 2 no tht u cn
undrstnd me rlly wel.
4 if u cldnt rd my txts
id haf to lrn to spel.

My Kitty Likes My Goldfish

My kitty likes my goldfish.
My kitty likes my mice.
My kitty likes my parakeets.
She thinks they’re all so nice.

The way she mews so sweetly,
the way she sits and stares,
I’d have to say it’s obvious
how much my kitty cares.

She doubtlessly adores them
and thinks so highly of them.
She treats them so attentively
it’s clear that she must love them.

But, tragically, they disappeared
the other afternoon.
My kitty seems so lonely now.
I hope they come back soon.

Brand New Ball

I bought a brand new rubber ball.
I threw it at my bedroom wall.

It
started
bouncing
back
and
forth
from
north
to
south
and
south
to
north

until
at
last
it
came
to
rest.

I like my ball.
My ball’s
the
best.

I Sat Down On a Seesaw

I sat down on a seesaw
to see what I could see,
but all I saw was seesaw
rising up in front of me.

I couldn’t see the treetops.
I couldn’t see the sky.
I couldn’t see the far-off fields.
I sat and wondered why.

I couldn’t see the swingset,
or even see the slide.
I guess I need someone to
sit down on the other side.

My Brother’s a Genius

My brother’s a genius;
as smart as they come.
Without his computer, though,
boy, is he dumb.
His screws all get looser.
His lights become dim.
His mind starts unwinding.
His senses grow slim.

His IQ starts dropping.
His smarts start to sink.
It seems to be strenuous
even to think.
His wisdom and wits take
a little vacation.
His head is still there
but his brain leaves the station.

He can’t answer questions
or speak off the cuff.
His noggin gets clogged up
with feathers and fluff.
He’s dense as a doorknob.
He’s thick as a brick.
It’s plain that his brain
can’t compete with a stick.

When using computers,
he’s bright as the sun.
Without them, he’s dumb
as a hamburger bun.
He’s slow as a dodo,
obtuse as a trout.
I sure hope our Internet
never goes out.