From Blog Post:
Learning to
write poetry in two to four sessions is not a miracle.
Kidsfreesouls suggest Poetry Soup Ideas and here's some simple
steps:
Parents want their kids to write Poetry
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POETRY : Your Contributions |
WRITE A POEM! SPIN A STORY!
Calling all budding poets and blossoming authors and writers to
squeal and squabble the hidden imagination in your brainy heads.
Live the fantasy and don’t just let your imagination run dry!
It’s time to make a great Poem or weave a story – Be original,
Be imaginative, Be realistic or just fantasy. Make it
adventurous or a thriller, humorous or fabulous, thought
provoking or concerned, a travel or animal related, school story
or a mystery. And lo, KidsFreesouls is here to help you shrug
off the blues. Just hook to our ideas and ‘Get-set-right’ to
trail to hold the reigns of Rudolf’s sleigh this Christmas time
OR ANY TIME, ANY WHERE. Write your right way out & Enjoy! It's
Only Words.....
NOW - NO MORE POETRY COMPETITION,
PRIZES
JUST POETRY BY YOU:-)
Make it Adventurous or a thriller poem, humorous or fabulous, thought
provoking or concerned, a travel or animal related, school themes, maths or grammar fun.
The Poetry Competition & Hall
of Fame Winners page is discontinued. Instead, Just Poetry Contributions to
encourage all poetry loving writers who like to have their poetry featured here
on Kidsfreesouls. I shall paste it as the way you send it - Choice is yours to
write and submit. Only, please be an original writer. Kids can write and adults
too.
BEST
POEMS
BY
KIDSFREESOULS READERS: 2009-2011
Send Yours
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God's
Mystery
By
Matthew De Jose
7 years,
United Kingdom
On earth it is
lovely,
but I wonder about heaven
Earth has lovely things,
but heaven I'm not so sure
Earth has electricity ,
but heaven I don't know
Earth has greatness,
but heaven may be better.
Love
By Erin Fischer
When the
flowers bloom
And the
grass is wet
You know
its spring.
When the
sun shines
And your
skin simmers
You know
its summer.
When your
lies are outrun
And
exhaustion is overreaching
You know
its depression.
When you
cry
And feel
your spirit break
You know
its death.
When you
dance for joy
And your
thoughts are consumed
You know
It’s Love.
My slippers
By Rhea Parekh,(10 years),
India
I LOVE TO WEAR MY SLIPPERS,
THAT ARE TIGHT AND LOOSE FOR ME.
SO
I GO TO MR'S SLIPPER SHOP,
TO BUY A PERFECT MATCH FOR ME.
I WEAR MY SLIPPERS IMMEDIATLY;
AND DANCE ON THE STAGE FREELY.
SO I WATCH CAREFULLY,
THAT MY SLIPPERS ARE DANCING WITH ME.
If
I Was A President For A Day
by
Aditya Santhosh
If I was a President for a day
I will have it on my birthday
If I was a President for a day
I would do the best of what all people say
I will make the greatest company
In our outstanding country
If I was a President for a day
I will make the country progress the right way
I will teach the people of our country
The value of honesty and money
If I really want to become a President for a day
I should work hard and work smart
And we will reach our goal like a dart |
BEST
POEMS
BY
KIDSFREESOULS READERS: 2008
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What a Joy is
Flight
Chase Christmas (12)
The birds, what
a joy they have found
To fly in the
sky as we walk on the ground
Oh so high on
the breeze
Flying over the
seas
Oh what a joy
they have found
And we watch on
the ground
As they soar
through the air
With narry a
care
What a joy they
have found
As we think on
the ground
Of a way to fly
As a bird oh so
high
Oh, what a joy
we have found
And we leave
from the ground
Oh so high on
the breeze
Flying over the
trees
What a joy we
have found
Looking down on
the ground
As we soar
through the air
With nary a care
What a Joy!
MY PET
By Bhavya Tibrewala ( Age 6 years )
Hyderabad. India
I have a cute pet pug,
Who loves to pee on rug.
He loves to bite and chew ,
Socks and shoes and all things new,
His name is Mr Champ,,
His soft black muzzle is damp,
He has a fine ,smooth coat,
A curly tail the colour of oat ,
He is a cheerful happy fellow,
Who chases me high and low.
He patiently waits outside my door,
Says, "I want to play some more."
He likes to use the Vodaphone,
To chat with me when I'm not home,
I hope he helps me one fine day,
To lick my stamps and find my way.
BOOKS ARE A MEDIUM OF
COMMUNICATION
by Aditya Mathur
Amity International School, Haryana
Books are a medium of communication
They are made for the people and their nation
Some books have information of Edison’s light
Edison’s effort made the world bright at night.
Some books write about the planes of Wright Brothers
You will find about music and fun in others
Books are of many types
Some are on animals and their lives
If Mahatma Gandhi didn’t write about his life
How would you know about his freedom fight?
Books are trains and Libraries their station
Their passengers are all types of information!
Books are a medium of communication!
WHY DO YOU BULLY ME?
by Caitlinleigh Spiers (11)
Scotland, UK
Why do you bully me every single day,
make a full of me in every way.
Shout at me because I have ginger hair,
or laugh at me because of the clothes I wear.
I'm no different from anybody in this school,
just because you think I'm uncool,
You wouldn't like it if I bullied you one day,
hurt your feelings in every way.
I'm scared to set foot out my door,
because your a bully I can't ignore.
I want to tell someone but I'm scared of what you'll say,
If you will hit me and make me pay.
Do you bully me because you have nothing to do?
This is the question I want to ask you.
You look so happy while I am sad,
Do you not even feel in the slightest bit bad.
Ok I can't take this any longer,
I have to tell someone I have to be stronger.
I can't let you bully me any more,
so sometime today the police will be at your door.
Don't let people bully you,
and tell you what to do.
Tell someone and they will deal with it,
and you will not get bullied or hit.
WINTER
(from Nick Prutskikh, 10 y.o., Boca Raton, FL, USA)
School bells ringing
Kids streamin'
Winter holidays
Mothers shopping
Fathers mopping
Kids waiting
For Santa Claus
Christmas trees shining
Children sitting,
Searching for Ole'
Saint Nick
THE WILD WEST
by Neelam Shah age 15
UK( England)
When the sun settles down,
cowboys come galloping into to town.
When the old folks come riding
the youngens come gliding.
When gold miners come with mountains of gold
all the folks would be filthy rich and say ' sold'.
When children play with their balloons,
the folks come rushing into the saloon.
When the sheriff strides into the west,
everyone in town is put to the test.
When the horses rest their heels
All the folks have a big meal.
When the high wind dusts moves in,
two cowboys battle for their sins.
When one cowboy yells 'reach for the sky'
the other just gives a bad sigh.
When both are holding guns,
one says to the other this ain't no fun.
When both give up the fight,
they realise they can find the light.
WHAT MAKES WATER
by Neelam Shah age 15
UK( England)
What makes the sea
glisten with shine.
What makes the river
cuddle the waves
What makes the
ocean breeze.
What makes the
rain seem so delicate.
What makes the fish
swim in the deep blue.
What makes the
floods so monstrous.
What makes the monsoon
pour its grief on land.
What makes the
ponds so crowded,
with lily pads and frogs.
What makes the puddles
so reflective.
What makes the waterfall
so beautiful.
What makes the shower
drizzle with purity.
what makes the
tap water so fresh.
What makes the bottled
water so confined.
What makes the dirty polluted
water so deadly.
What makes the tear drops
in our eyes so salty.
What makes the swimming pool
so warm and soothing. |
BEST
POEMS
BY
KIDSFREESOULS READERS: 2007
|
The Wooden Battlefield
Hannah Morris,age 10
Email:aj.morris007@btinternet.com
Just beneath the moon,
Across the red sea shore,
Sits the Wooden Battlefield,
Upon the dusty Moor.
Silent and still they sit,
The dark and rusty trees,
Singing their miserable songs,
Swaying back and fourth as they please.
Walking upon the battlefield,
No thought of pain in your mind,
Not a sound for miles,
Not a bird in sight you find.
Sad and motionless soldiers,
Shields scattered on the floor,
Thinking of the battlefield,
The pain grows more and more.
Snowflake
Holly smith - holly5445@sbcglobal.net
I am a snowflake coming from a cloud.
I’m awaiting to fall onto the ground.
I see kids playing on my friends,
Frightened I going to be one of them.
Hoping I don’t melt,
For a least a day.
Or at least not till,
Winter goes away.
I hear the cool wind blowing,
Pushing me every which way.
I feel the sun’s heat shining on me,
Please don’t let me melt today.
A Miserable shop
Rekha,C,4th std,
Muscat
I used to live down the lane
with great fame and name
but now I have nothing to do other than
watch children playing games
I was painted in bright pink
and had everything starting from ink.
every customer had my link
but now I am nothing but a small blink.
My owner spent a lot of time in me
and made a lot of money in me
but now I am a great ruin to see
I wanted to share this with you
because I feel so blue
thank-you for listening to me
haso hasho hasho!!!
( The last line seems to be in gujarati language. Haso means : Laugh!)
Why God Made Little Girls
-Nidhi Nair
God made the world with its towering trees,
Magestic mountains and restless seas.
Then he paused and said,
It needs one more thing,
Someone to laugh, dance and sing,
To walk in the woods, gather flower
To commune with nature in the quiet hours.
So, god made little girls
And when his work was over,
He was proud for the work he did
And, saw the world through the little eyes.
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BEST
POEMS
BY
KIDSFREESOULS READERS: 2006
|
Freedom is Precious
By Ayushi Vora, 5th std., Udgam
School
Under the rule of Britishers, we struggled for our freedom
Stand fast and suffer long, Nation great and strong
Midnight bell chimes, truth and honor wins,
Free to breathe the native air, proudly we stand with kins
Father let my country awake, freedom weeps, justice sleeps,
Corruption reigns, give me strength,
Banish, hate and spread love, faith and peace
Love for
our Country
-By Shaimi Jhaveri
Under the rule of Britishers,
We lived a decade before
Faced hardships and struggled,
Sufferings galore.
We fought for freedom
With all might and power
We stood high and suffered long
Nation great and strong
We salute the martyrs
And pay our tribute
They helped to free India
We bow our heads and show respect,
We hoist the flag, Celebrate the freedom pact.
Rejoice
-By Aashini Sheth
Today we rejoice, before we sacrificed,
Go back into the leaves of history
During the time of slavery.
Captured by the reigns of the Britishers
Rule of struggle and hardship
Pay tribute to our freedom fighters
Gandhiji and nehruji help us to be free
Ace cavales" staceyyy20@yahoo.com
Poem to my kid Ivan Clyde on his 2nd Birthday
Stacey & Ivan
A tiny hush of moment...a living daffodil
every herald of laughter...every moment
when your'e here...
the world gives what it can offer...
I take it with you without fear.
For I will be here for you...till the last day of each
strife
you will see the world to its fullest undying embers of my
life.
You will learn how to care, nurture not destroy
uncertain maybe of tomorrow, but you will give the world
with joy...
There I stand, I wait and take pride...in my arms you rest
forever my darling Ivan clyde.
Denisse Lopez denisselopez_9@yahoo.coM
There once was an ape at the zoo
who looked out the bars and saw YOU
do you think is fair
to give apes a scare
i think its a mean thing to do!
Amelia Flora Darell
Age: 11
Email: Slinka81@hotmail.com
I laze amongst the boughs of trees, gazing over a wall
An orchard ,lies sleepily in the land that excludes me
Sweet plums nestle among the trees, their succulent flesh
All the more so inviting, when to bite its soft pulp, is
forbidden
A plump, purple, plum ,tangent tissue beneath its supple
skin
My tongue longs for its exquisite tang ,to savor it
My hearts beat quickens, as I pluck plums
Ripping it from its tender roots the tree quivers
Juice oozes over my hands ,sticky as blood
Agile skin yields helplessly to my quick bite
So good , so sweet, so cold; plums
trees, gazing over a wall.
Light of New Life
I'm fourteen and this is my poem Marguerite Belisle of
California 8th grade
If I come to you, crying, pleading- will do no good.
When I put the gun to your head in plea,
You will feel none but pain.
For you have already pulled the trigger amongst your self.
Now you stand dying from the inside out because all you did,
Was just once enough and too many to addict, too much to
kill.
Too much to kill your heart and soul,
Too much to kill what really matters.
Too much to murder what really lies ahead.
Too much, too much.
Now all that's left for you is death,
Death of the one we once loved,
But Now you are gone,
You may still be standing ill from your mistake,
To us you are a threat to be standing,
Shameful to be what you have taken into your self,
It feels so long since you have had your health, your life,
your soul,
So long it has diminished.
Rebuild what has been destroyed,
By first digging it up in agony, and internal calling
Dig deeper until the light below flows to your head,
Flaring with new found life,
Soon you will return to us,
With your past behind you to always be looked upon,
To be regretted and shamed,
Ahead of you, your future breathes new life
Around you we will stand strong, glad of your return,
But now, Grab a shovel and start digging
Your spade will hit the light of life once again,
Even when your buried too deeply in your calling death...
We want you back.
MY PERFECT HAPPINESS
AAINA AGGARWAL(14 YEARS)
I began my quest to perfect happiness
Somewhere in the midst of the forests.
Amongst the green cover, amid the shady trees,
Away from the busy life.
In complete isolation and tranquility.
I did discover the beauty of nature.
Experienced the privilege of segregation,
But felt the lack of composure.
So I took the path of spirituality,
To explore my inner self;
To find the peace of mind.
Yet the bliss was incomplete.
I recollected my memories,
That Dig up the happiest moments of my life.
All exhibited the image of my mother,
The benefactor of my life.
I ran to her and Fell into her lap.
That day I realized my perfect happiness
I discovered my ultimate
happiness.
DANCING SHOES
By Nicole Braganza, 17 years
Mum does Bharatnatyam
Sister does Ballet
Brother goes out now and then,
To dance the cabaret
Aunt Elma does belly dancing
Uncle Fred, the waltz
Even little poochie
Does splits and somersaults
Now if you ask me, I would say
My family’s off the brink
My grandma was a "tap dancer"
Till she fell in the sink!
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Kids
'Be Original & Creative' - Parents 'Guide the kids' - Teachers 'Encourage' - Let
the Entries be Kids own Creativity writing and submit entries in 'Good Faith' - God sees
All!
Send you
Original Creation of Poetry
Back to Home
Kidsfreesouls held no responsibility for Poems appearing on
this page as they are Poet's own creations. If you find the
poem is not original and copied, please excuse the sender
and report us.
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Read More
KIDSFREESOULS
(Swagat Children
Library)
HALL OF FAME WINNERS
(Past Winners)
Wonders of Nature by Ananya Mukherjee (aged 7),
New Delhi
The Grasslands are flat
But hold on to your hat
'cause it is windy
The Rainforest is hot
But it is a very wet spot
But there is no need to frown
'cause everything is growing all around
The Tundra is cold
And white and snowy
And there are no trees on the ground
The Desert is hot and dry
And if you have no w
A friend
by Nur Hajar Bte Hanifah
For all this time
I had many friends
They are not the friends
That I really care
They are not the type
Whom I like to share
They show me the face
That they don't care
But when I found you
I know that you are
A friend I could trust
Right from the start
To show my friendship
Just for you
I want to say
I love you
You are the friend
That I would like
I treasure you
Right from my heart
DREAM by Sarah T.
seattle, WA 6th grade
I wonder,
I ponder,
into the stars,
and into the cloudy sunbeams,
of mystic spirals,
and realistic lines,
of hope,
and dreams
Ed the
Horse
By Hania i Rajmund
rajmundb@optusnet.com.au
Marian Bartenbach
Melbourne
Australia.
Ed was a black and white Horse.
He died around the age of fifteen years.
We cannot share his inner world, of course:
Such loveliness lies far beyond our tears.
He came to us beaten and afraid,
But in about a year he chose to love,
Never questioning the choice he made,
And from that passion he was like a dove.
It wasn't mere acceptance or obligation
That made him such a gentle and loving friend.
Some innocence of which we have no notion
Gave him a depth we cannot comprehend.
He loved us with a dignity and grace
We cannot hope to answer or replace.
See you Ed, In another lifetime.
Arati Parekh, Mt. Carmel, Ahmedabad
The death knell is ringing and the victim is waiting,
It won't be too long, But he'll have to suffer along,
Till death rings ding dong.
Sex is a fad, but remember tide is bad,
So beware, Be canny and take care,
For prevention is better than to dare.
If you want to be extinct,
The end with aids is distinct,
So remember the truth,
That Aids is here and Aids Kills.
By Neha Bhatt
This world was a place beautiful without Man
What made God create an enemy like Man?
His habits destroyed and took the toll of his own human race
His actions which were to grace the place disgraced the earth's face.
He destroyed happiness' bliss, And made sadness click
He has enemies but not a friend, And has changed the world
According to this trend.
He hates his sorrows, He loves his joys,
But in his joys, he makes others cry.
He wins for himself, And he loses for himself.
He thinks for himself, And he works for himself
But he never has the money to spend on himself.
Money is a thing that he believes in the most
But money is the thing that cheats him the most.
Money is like a rive, It floats and just floats,
And has time only to knowck at our doors
Man has money in time of his joys
But when he has no money, Man has to cry.
Man is like a puppet in the hands of time
Man can change the world, But cannot change the time.
Time is a chain, in which man is bound
Try as he may, he cannot cut it down.
Love is the medicine on which man survives
It is the only thing on which this world thrives,
Love is joy and love is hope
Love is what makes us this life cope.
Name: Javed G
E-mail: darkarrow@rediffmail.com
Another Teardrop To Wipe
His body lies wrapped, in a peaceful blanket of
sorrow.
His maiden weeps.
Pounding her skull with her fists, to murder the vultures of agony.
That perch on her heart.
To rid the everlasting pain, that will always remain.
To heal that wound
Whose scar will echo on, every lonely sleepless night.
Another sorrowful heart to tame.
Another teardrop to wipe.
But will the sun stop shining, will the fire stop burning?
Will his soul stop haunting?
His young lad stood up, "Why do we mourn his death?
Let's celebrate an eternity.
Not with a sobbing farewell, but cheering a wonderful life."
The silence sleeps.
Another teardrop wiped.
The View of Our World
By Tammy Tran, 12 years
E-mail:
tamaratran@hotmail.com
A World of Corruption,
A World of Destruction,
Power stations burning,
Cars churning,
We sit.
Ice glaciers melting,
Therefore, rain is pelting,
Animals gone,
Forests shorn,
We sit.
Trees logged,
The air bogged,
The world dying,
Environmentalists crying,
And, we still sit.
Politicians gaining,
We straining,
Profits made,
Concrete laid,
The urban spread,
Species dead,
What will it take,
Before our world is baked?
Please Mommy
By Destinie Wood
E-mail:
destinbird@yahoo.com
Don't want to go to school, mommy
The kids all tend to stare
They switched my lock, now it won't open
And none of them seem to care.
Don't want to go to school, mommy
The kids all point and laugh
I have so many conflicts
But I'm afraid to tell the staff.
I don't want to go to school, mommy!
Please don't make me go today
The kids, they are so mean to me
I'm afraid, and want to run away.
Don't want to go to school, mommy
They call me many bad names
They push and shove or hit me
But mostly, I hate their mind games.
Don't make me go to school, mommy
Being there isn't any good
I'm thinking about taking revenge
Do you think I could?
You should have let me stay home, mommy
Because I found my daddy's gun
I took it to school with lots of bullets
Then, I shot everyone.
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