Misc. Children Poems
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Thanks, Denny

The Touch of a Child’s Hand

The promise of tomorrow and the hope of dreams come true,
A reminder of the childhood that is still a part of you . .

The wonder of a miracle from which this love began . . .
There is so much found in the touch of a child’s hand.

(Shel Silverstein)

Oh, the thumb-sucker's thumb
May look wrinkled and wet
And withered and white as the snow,
But the taste of the a thumb
Is the sweetest taste yet
(As only we thumb-suckers know).

Little Hands

My little hands play patty-cake
They peek-a-boo and wave . . .
They catch me while I learn to walk
And splash me as I bathe . . .
My little hands reach up to you
For hugs before I sleep . . .
And fold together when I pray
The Lord my soul to keep . . .
My little hands are tiny now
But yours will serve to guide me . . .
And when I’m grown I’ll still reach out
And know you’re right beside me.

My Nose

It doesn’t breathe;
It doesn’t smell;
It doesn’t feel
So very well.
I am discouraged
With my nose:
The only thing it
Does is blows.

Crowded Tub
(Shel Silverstein)

There's too many kids in this tub
There's too many elbows to scrub
I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine
There's too many kids in this tub.

Bath time Page Toppers
Bathing Beauty

Country baths…used water 5 cents, fresh water 10 cents

Making a big splash

Splish, splash I was taking a bath


Spring Rain
(Marchette Chute)

The storm came up so very quick
It couldn’t have been quicker.
I should have brought my hat along,
I should have brought my slicker.
My hair is wet, my feet are wet,
I couldn’t be much wetter.
I fell into a river once
But this is even better.

Here's to the Kids who are Different
(Dilby Wolfe)

Here's to the kids that are different,
The kids that don't always get A's.
The kids that have ears, twice as big as their peers,
Or have noses that go on for days.
Here's to the kids that are different,
The kids that are just out of step.
The kids they all tease,
Who have cuts on their knees,
And whose sneakers are constantly wet.
Here's to the kids that are different,
The kids with a mischievous streak.
For when they have grown,
As history has shown,
It's their difference that makes them unique.

My Blanket

My mom says I'm a big kid now,
Why keep this dirty old blanket.
The color is gone, the edges are rough and ragged,
Though dingy, frayed, well worn and loved,
Please don't rush me or expect us to part,
Remember my blanket warms me and my heart.