by Anonymous

In a house the size of a postage stamp
lived a man as big as a barge.
His mouth could drink the entire river
You could say it was rather large
For dinner he would eat a trillion beans
And a silo full of grain,
Washed it down with a tanker of milk
As if he were a drain.

by Kelly Roper

All the little corn flakes were so excited
They were getting to come out and play.
They landed in the milky pool,
And began frolicking away.
A spoon dipped in to give some a ride,
And returned many times for more.
The cornflakes' happiness didn't last long,
Because suddenly they were no more.

By Maya Angelou

Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk
One paints the beginning
of a certain end.
The other, the end of a
sure beginning.

by Langson Hughes

The night is beautiful,

So the faces of my people.

The stars are beautiful,

So the eyes of my people.

Beautiful, also, is the sun.

Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people

By Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.

by Shel Silverstein

There’s no one to talk with-
I’ll talk with my shoe.

He does have a tongue
And an inner soul, too.

He’s awfully well polished,
So straightlaced and neat

(But he talks about nothing
But feet--feet--feet)

sorry if there's wrong pronounciation

by unknown

Life is like a piece of art,
It requires lots of heart.
Choose your paint and your brush,
Take your time, avoid the rush.

Before you paint, choose your theme,
Don’t be afraid to follow your dream.
It’s alright to make a mistake.
Your painting is real; it’s not fake.

Look at your painting, don’t be crying,
Begin again; keep on trying.
Your painting is never fully complete,
Enjoy the process; make sure it’s sweet.

(sorry for the music, my lil bro is watching tv)

By Sharon Hendricks

The teapot sang as the water boiled
The ice cubes cackled in their glass
the teacups chattered to one another.
While the chairs were passing gas
The gravy gurgled merrily
As the oil danced in a pan.

By Langston Hughes

Bring me all of your dreams,

You dreamer,

Bring me all your

Heart melodies

That I may wrap them

In a blue cloud-cloth

Away from the too-rough fingers

Of the world.

The keys hung plainly on the hook,

Right where their owner left them.

But they were naughty keys so they

Jumped from the hook and left then.

They loved to find a hiding place

On the floor or between cushions.

But today they sought to find

a spot he'd never look in!

They slipped inside a wastebasket

That sat just under their hook.

Those naughty keys just hid and grinned,

While their owner looked and looked.

by Sharon Hendricks

The teapot sang as the water boiled.

The ice cubes cackled in their glass.

the teacups chattered to one another.

While the chairs were passing gas.

The gravy gurgled merrily.

As the oil danced in a pan.

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.