Funny Poem of My Five Kitty Cats

Funny Poem of My Five Kitty Cats 

Are you looking for funny poem My Five Kitty Cats,  children poems, english poems for kids, funny poems, funny poems for kids, kids poems, poems for children, poems for kids, than your searches is finished.

Funny poems bring out your sense of humor. Create smiles with popular humor poetry and other funny poems that will keep you reading & laughing.Funny and humourous poems full of wit and wisdom that will tickle your funny bone and bring a smile to your face and have you laughing outloud. Have fun!

Funny Poem of My Five Kitty Cats Image

Funny Poem of My Five Kitty Cats

Funny Poem of My Five Kitty Cat

Buster, Sparkle, Newbie, Speedy

and then there's Pixie our smallest kitty,

One, two, three and four and five,

they're so frisky, so alive.

Sparkle is my number one,

14 years old and so much fun.

Purrs and snuggles on my shoulder,

she's getting slow and somewhat older.

She meows for water from the sink,

I turn it on, for her to drink.

Speedy is my number two,

proud and handsome, I tell you!

He prances like a little pony,

and you know what? That's no baloney.

He guards the others from above,

and sometimes gives a little shove.

Newbie is my number three,

chubby, plump as one can be.

Always cleaning, always licking, 

he tries to run but his paws keep sticking.

He keeps on searching for a hand,

to scratch under his collar band.

Buster is my number four,

always eating, more and more.

Loves to snack on lots of munchies,

Tender Vittles and some crunchies.

Begging, pleading, day and nights.

"Give me crunchies, or I'll bite!"

Pixie is my number five,

She jumps, rolls over, takes a dive.

Up my back, onto my shoulder,

hoping I would grab and hold her.

Then she jumps to catch a fly,

She's four months old, my sweetie pie.

Buster, Sparkle, Newbie, Speedy,

and there's Pixie our smallest kitty.

Five, four, three and two and one,

I love my kitty cats, they're so much fun.

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• Funny Poems for Kids Collection 1-10

Funny Poems for Kids Collection 1-10

Funny Poems for Kids

Are you looking for Poems for Kids, kids poems, poems for children, english poems for kids, children poems, funny poems for kids, funny poems, poems for kids than your searches is finished.

This is a collection of classical poems for children written by a variety of poets such as Christina Rossetti, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Edward Lear.

Fun poetry for kids by English poet Gareth Lancaster.Here you get the newest Poems for Kids. Here are my newest poems for you to read and rate. I post new poems as I write them, so please check back often. Have fun!

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Funny Poems for Kids

I Played a Game

I played a game.
I rode my bike.
I had a snack.
I took a hike.
I read a book.
I watched T.V.
I built a fort.
I climbed a tree.
I surfed the web.
I played guitar.
I caught a bug
inside a jar.
I called my friends.
I dug a hole.
I kicked a ball.
I scored a goal.
I had a swim.
I learned to skate.
I played with toys.
I stayed up late.
It’s fair to say
I do like school,
but even more, though,
weekends rule!

--Kenn Nesbitt

I'm Lonely, So Lonely

I’m lonely, so lonely.
I’m always alone.
I never get emails
or calls on my phone.
I sit by myself
in my room every day,
and wonder why nobody
wants to go play.
My classmates avoid me.
They never say, “hi.”
They don’t seem to know
I’m a wonderful guy.
And even the strangers
I see on the street
go out of their way
to make sure we don’t meet.
They jump and they run
to get out of my path.
I guess maybe this year
I’ll take my first bath.

 --Kenn Nesbitt

Foolish Fiona

This morning when foolish Fiona awoke
she looked at her mother, and said with a croak,
“I can’t go to school, so please write me a note
to tell them I’m home with a frog in my throat.”

Her mom wrote a note for the teacher that said
“My daughter is sick and she’s staying in bed.
She won’t be at school for the rest of the week.
She swallowed a polliwog down at the creek.”

 --Kenn Nesbitt

I'm Only Half a Werewolf

I was bitten by a werewolf
with a weak, half-hearted bite,
and became a half a werewolf;
on my left, but not my right.

So now when the moon is halfway full,
my face grows halfway hairy.
And my left-hand claws and single fang
are surely semi-scary.

Now I nearly need to stay up late.
I partly want to prowl.
I’ve been feeling fairly frisky.
I have half a mind to howl.

If you ever see me coming
you should turn and run away,
for the odds are fifty-fifty
you’ll regret it if you stay.

Yes, I may be half a werewolf,
with my fleas and doggy breath,
but I promise, if you meet me,
I will scare you half to death.

 --Kenn Nesbitt

The Contents of My Desk

A nail.
A nickel.
A snail.
A pickle.
A twisted-up
slinky.
A ring for
my pinky.
A blackened
banana.
A love note
from Hannah.
My doodles
of rockets.
The lint from
my pockets.
A fork-like
utensil.
But sorry…
no pencil.

 --Kenn Nesbitt

When Sarah Surfs the Internet

When Sarah surfs the Internet
she starts by checking mail.
She answers all her messages
from friends in great detail.

She plays a game, or maybe two,
and watches a cartoon,
then chats with kids in places
like Rwanda and Rangoon.

She reads about her favorite bands.
She buys an MP3.
She downloads movie trailers
and she looks for stuff for free.

She reads about celebrities
and dreams of wealth and fame,
then watches music videos
and plays another game.

If you should say, “Your time is up.
I need to use the Net,”
she always whines, “I haven’t got
my homework finished yet!”

 --Kenn Nesbitt

My Lunch

A candy bar.

A piece of cake.

A lollipop.

A chocolate shake.

A jelly donut.

Chocolate chips.

Some gummy worms

and licorice whips.

A candy cane.

A lemon drop.

Some bubblegum

and soda pop.

Vanilla wafers.

Cherry punch.

My mom slept in

while I made lunch.

 --Kenn Nesbitt

My Mother Said to Do My Chores

My mother said to do my chores,

to dust the shelves and mop the floors,

and wipe the walls and wind the clocks,

and scoop the kitty’s litter box,

and walk the dog and feed the fishes,

and wash and dry the dirty dishes,

and clean my room and take a bath,

and read a book and do my math,

and pick up all my Lego blocks,

and put away my shoes and socks,

and hang my shirts and fold my pants,

and water all the potted plants,

and organize my toys and games,

and straighten up the picture frames,

and polish all the silverware,

and brush my teeth and comb my hair,

and rake the leaves and mow the lawn,

and on and on and on and on.

She said I’ll get to have some fun

as soon as all my chores are done.

With all the chores I have to do

until my mother says I’m through,

like study for an hour or two,

and peel potatoes and stir the stew,

and fix a vase with crazy glue,

and practice tuba till I’m blue,

and wash the dog with pet shampoo,

and sweep the chimney and the flue,

and scrub the tub and toilet too,

and pick up piles of puppy poo…

It looks like I’ll be ninety three

before I get to watch TV.

 --Kenn Nesbitt

My book report is due today

My book report is due today.

I haven’t finished yet.

In fact, I haven’t started,

which I’m coming to regret.

I haven’t even read the book.

I put it off so long.

I thought I’d have a lot of time.

It looks like I was wrong.

I’d ask my older brother

what this book is all about,

but he’s already left for school

and cannot help me out.

I’d hustle to the movie store

and rent the DVD,

but I don’t even have the time

to watch it on TV.

I guess I’ll have to fake it

and pretend I read the book.

Then write a bunch of nonsense

and assorted gobbledygook.

It’s either that, or do the thing

my conscience knows is right:

I’ll claim I’m sick and stay at home

and finish it tonight.

 --Kenn Nesbitt

Wayne the Stegosaurus

Poems for Kids

Meet the stegosaurus, Wayne.

He doesn’t have the biggest brain.

He’s long and heavy, wide and tall,

but has a brain that’s extra small.

He’s not the brightest dinosaur.

He thinks that one plus one is four.

He can’t remember up from down.

He thinks the sky is chocolate brown.

He wears his bow tie on his tail

and likes to eat the daily mail.

When playing hide-and-seek he tries

to hide by covering his eyes.

He thinks that black is really white.

He’s sure the sun comes out at night.

He thinks that water grows on trees

and when it’s hot he starts to freeze.

He’s happy when he’s feeling ill.

He likes to dance by standing still.

And when it’s time to go to bed,

he puts bananas on his head.

He thinks his name is Bob, not Wayne,

but that’s what happens when your brain

(although you’re big and brave and spiny)

is very, very, very tiny.

 --Kenn Nesbitt

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