Poems For Kids

I feel your hands in my hair. I feel your breath on my neck. I feel your body pressed so close to mine. I feel your lips on my throat. I feel your hands move to my back and your lips work their way up to mine. I feel you and I love it. I hear you say you love …

Love is when you care more about someone else’s happiness than your own, You would do anything for them, You’d rather be with them than anyone else in the world, You would die so they could live, When you lose them it feels like you lose yourself, They’re the only thing you can ever think of, You never even dream …

Oh! Lord your Maya does not give me up even When I have given it up. In spite of my resistance it clings to me and follows me. Your Maya becomes Yogini to the Yogin. It becomes a nun to the monk, it becomes a herald to the saint. It adapts itself to each according to his nature. When I …

Oh! Please tell me, my little grey mouse, If it is true that you live in our house. Perhaps you live just down in our hall, Or even outside by the big garden wall.Wherever you live, I hope it is nice, For you and all the other grey mice. If only you weren’t so terribly shy, And scamper away when …

Once I saw a little bird, Going hop, hop, hop. So I cried, “Little bird, Will you stop, stop, stop?” And I saw going to the window To say, “How do you do?” When he shook his little tail, And away he flew. ∼ Sanjay Ahluwalia

“See the lion dance and prance, Dance and prance, dance and prance. See the lion dance and prance On Chinese New Year’s Day. Hear the firecrackers pop, Pop,pop,pop; pop,pop,pop Hear the firecrackers pop On Chinese New Year’s Day.”

Candles of tradition hopes lit with moments of sacred prayer for all life’s blessings in the flames of glory. Survival of the faith so many years ago in lands of Biblical proportions of a people sent into the desert to fulfill G-ds prophecy, the miracle of eight nights. Songs and joyous recitations fill our homes these days with spinning wooden …

Light the first of eight tonight – the farthest candle to the right. Light the first and second, too, when tomorrow’s day is through. Then light three, and then light four – every dusk one candle more Till all eight burn bright and high, honoring a day gone by When the Temple was restored, rescued from the Syrian lord, And …

I’m Milly the Moth, And I fly at night. To call me a butterfly, Would not be right. If you open the window, And put on the light, I might come and see you, One fine summer’s night. ∼ Porter G., Hilda Offen, Pradera, Esme Eve, Alan Jesset, Richard Hooke

When nothing goes right, when days become night, when hope becomes hopeless, when goals get dim, When the dreams you have begin to shatter. When life in front of you seems like a battle And everything begins to rattle, When you get numb about anything that happens to you, When some tries to shatter you Hence, when nothing turns right, …