childrens poetry
Nostalgia-inducing poetry inspired by our earliest favorites; from Dr. Seuss to Mother Goose, children’s poetry is all grown up.
The world is waiting, his dream to pursue.Alexander’s Journey: The Boy Who Dreamed Big
Alexander, the Schoolboy King In the dusty yard, where we all play, A boy named Alex leads the way. Not just games of tag or ball, He dreams of empires, great and tall. "Let’s play war!" he shouts with pride, "You're the Persians, I’ll decide!" With sticks as swords, we all agree, But Alex fights like he's meant to be. He climbs the trees, he scales the wall, Pretends he's mighty, ten feet tall. "One day, I'll rule the world, you’ll see, A leader great, that’s meant for me!" His notebook’s full of maps he’s drawn, Of lands to conquer from dusk to dawn. While others study sums and rhyme, He’s planning battles, biding time. Our teacher sighs, “Sit down, my boy!” But Alex grins, a spark of joy. For in his heart, he knows it’s true, The world is waiting, his dream to pursue.Alexander’s Journey: The Boy Who Dreamed Big In a quiet town, beneath the sun’s warm gleam, Lived a boy named Alexander, with a mighty dream. While others ran, carefree in the fields, He imagined armies with swords and shields. With books in hand and maps in sight, He’d study the stars in the pale moonlight. For Aristotle’s words would guide his mind, To seek new worlds and leave none behind. “Come play!” the children would call to him, But his vision burned, fierce and grim. “Today we play as kings and knights, I’ll lead the charge and win the fights!” With sticks as spears and rocks as gold, He’d divide the spoils, so brave, so bold. He’d tame wild horses in the yard, Saying, “No task is ever too hard!”
By Say the truth 2 years ago in Poets
Christian
Christ came to save; not to destroy Hear this, ye hypocrite Rain shall drench In the region of all Save! The shanties will say Tears of idles flow like the river Immersed in the sea; but sink not Adhere to the actor; for nothing is on earth Now we see, now we know, the world is vanity. Note: This poem is an acrostic poem. If you look at the beginning alphabet of each line and add it, you will see a word." CHRISTIAN ". Goto Emmanuel.
By Goto Emmanuel2 years ago in Poets
The Haunted Night
The storm came out of nowhere. What had been a calm evening turned into a chaotic downpour, forcing Rajib to pull over his motorbike. The rain blurred the winding road, and the distant flicker of a village light was his only hope. Soaked and shivering, he pushed his bike through the muddy path toward the settlement.
By Israt Jahan Anika2 years ago in Poets
There is no new prayer point on earth
Don't allow a snail to run a race for you. If you want to run a race, run like the spider. Don't just sweat, because some men sweat without running. Your dream today was my clergyman's dream yesterday. Your prayer tomorrow is like a toy in the hands of another man. The hut that covers you, the crown on your forehead, & the horsetail at hand has caused many kneels to peel in the mountain. There is no new poem on earth. All the poems have been written. Only new reflections exist. There is no new future, but the earnest prayer is that you dream a new dream today.
By Goto Emmanuel2 years ago in Poets
