="left">When most people think about
poems, they have an idea that all poems are laced with heavy themes like love,
death or religion. However, not all poems are serious. If you want to get your
kids interested in reading, you may do well to start them off with funny poems.
In comparison to novels or stories, poems are relatively shorter so they are
more suited for children. Once they understand that poems can be so much fun,
they will be asking for them all the time. There are lots of poems that are
written to make people laugh. Here are a few examples:
Messy
Room by Shel Silverstein
Whosever room this is
should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is
there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and
damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on
the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have
been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the
closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in
his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room
this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say
it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!
Daddy Fell In The
Pond by Alfred Noyes
Everyone
grumbled. The sky was grey.
We had nothing to do and nothing to
say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
And there seemed to be
nothing
beyond,
THEN
Daddy
fell into the pond!
And everyone's face grew merry and bright,
And
Timothy danced for sheer delight.
"Give me the camera, quick, oh
quick!
He's crawling out of the
duckweed."
Click!
Then
the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking
silently,
And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft
And it sounded as
if the old drake laughed.
O, there wasn't a thing that didn't
respond
WHEN
Daddy
fell into the pond!
Beautiful
Soup by Lewis Carroll
Beautiful Soup, so
rich and green,
Waiting in a hot
tureen!
Who for such dainties
would not stoop?
Soup of the evening,
beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening,
beautiful Soup!
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop! Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful
Soup!
Beautiful Soup! Who
cares for fish,
Game, or any other
dish?
Who would not give all
else for two
Pennyworth only of
Beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of
beautiful Soup?
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop! Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beauti--FUL
SOUP!
How Pleasant To Know Mr.
Lear by Edward Lear
How pleasant to know
Mr. Lear,
Who has written such
volumes of stuff.
Some think him
ill-tempered and queer,
But a few find him
pleasant enough.
His mind is concrete
and fastidious,
His nose is remarkably
big;
His visage is more or
less hideous,
His beard it resembles
a wig.
He has ears, and two
eyes, and ten fingers,
(Leastways if you
reckon two thumbs);
He used to be one of
the singers,
But now he is one of
the dumbs.
He sits in a beautiful
parlour,
With hundreds of books
on the wall;
He drinks a great deal
of marsala,
But never gets tipsy
at all.
He has many friends,
laymen and clerical,
Old Foss is the name
of his cat;
His body is perfectly
spherical,
He weareth a runcible
hat.
When he walks in
waterproof white,
The children run after
him so!
Calling out, "He's
gone out in his night-
Gown, that crazy old
Englishman, oh!"
He weeps by the side
of the ocean,
He weeps on the top of
the hill;
He purchases pancakes
and lotion,
And chocolate shrimps
from the mill.
He reads, but he does
not speak, Spanish,
He cannot abide ginger
beer;
Ere the days of his
pilgrimage vanish,
How pleasant to know
Mr. Lear!
Macavity The
Mystery
Cat by T.S.
Eliot
Macavity's a Mystery
Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw--
For he's the master
criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of
Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach
the scene of crime--Macavity's not there!
Macavity, Macavity,
there's no on like Macavity,
He's broken every
human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of
levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the
scene of crime--Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in
the basement, you may look up in the air--
But I tell you once
and once again, Macavity's not there!
Macavity's a ginger
cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if
you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply
lined with thought, his head is highly doomed;
His coat is dusty from
neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from
side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think
he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity,
there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in
feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a
by-street, you may see him in the square--
But when a crime's
discovered, then Macavity's not there!
He's outwardly
respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are
not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's
looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is
missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse
glass is broken, and the trellis past repair--
Ay, there's the wonder
of the thing! Macavity's not there!
And when the Foreign
Office finds a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose
some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scap of
paper in the hall or on the stair--
But it's useless of
investigate--Macavity's not there!
And when the loss has
been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
"It must have been
Macavity!"--but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find
him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing
complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity,
there's no one like Macacity,
There never was a Cat
of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an
alibit, or one or two to spare:
And whatever time the
deed took place--MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all
the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention
Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than
agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their
operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
My Doggy Ate My
Homework by David Crawley
"My doggy ate my
homework.
He chewed it up," I said.
But when I offered my excuse
My
teacher shook her head.
I saw this wasn’t
going well.
I didn’t want to fail.
Before she had a chance to talk,
I
added to the tale:
"Before he ate, he
took my work
And tossed it in a pot.
He simmered it with succotash
Till
it was piping hot.
"He scrambled up my
science notes
With eggs and bacon strips,
Along with sautéed spelling
words
And baked potato chips.
"He then took my arithmetic
And had
it gently fried.
He broiled both my book reports
With pickles on the
side.
"He wore a doggy
apron
As he cooked a notebook stew.
He barked when I objected.
There
was nothing I could do."
"Did he wear a doggy
chef hat?"
My teacher gave a scowl.
"He did," I said. "And taking
it
Would only make him growl."
My teacher frowned,
but then I said
As quickly as I could,
"He covered it with ketchup,
And he said it tasted good."
"A talking dog who
likes to cook?"
My teacher had a fit.
She sent me to the office,
And
that is where I sit.
I guess I made a big
mistake
In telling her all that.
’Cause I don’t have a doggy.
It was
eaten by my cat.
Today I Had A Rotten
Day by Kenn Nesbit
Today I had a rotten
day
as I was coming in from play.
I accidentally stubbed my toes
and
tripped and fell and whacked my nose.
I chipped a tooth. I cut my lip.
I
scraped my knee. I hurt my hip.
I pulled my shoulder, tweaked my ear,
and
got a bruise upon my rear.
I banged my elbow,
barked my shin.
A welt is forming on my chin.
My pencil poked me in the
thigh.
I got an eyelash in my eye.
I sprained my back. I wrenched my
neck.
I’m feeling like a total wreck.
So that’s the last time I
refuse
when teacher says to tie my shoes.
There are many wonderful poems that are
funny available out there. Many people from all walks of life have written
humorous poems. If you want to give it a shot, you definitely don’t even need a
diploma to start!
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