fun4children


POEMS
by Dominic Martia

new   Birds

Shadows Creep   |   The Bearded Man

Ice Cream Problem   |   My Travel Chair

Birds   |   I Met a Butterfly

What I See   |   Where Noses Run

The Balloon's Adventure   |   Watching Waves

Snow Angel  |   Sheets   |   I'm Very Good

Bananas   |   The Frog at My Window

My Pencil   |   A Special Day   |   Sharing



Birds

Birds in the bird bath,
What a splash they make,
Tail feathers, wing feathers
Shake, shake, shake.

Birds at the feeder,
Steady on their feet,
Red birds, yellow birds
Eat, eat, eat.

Birds in the tree tops,
Birds in rivers, in the sky.
Birds swim, birds wade, birds
Fly, fly, fly.

Birds that dive from mountains,
Birds that scratch and dig.
Eagles, ostriches.
Big, big, big.

Birds that chirp and warble,
Birds that tweet and sing,
Birds that talk by flapping
A wing, wing, wing.

Fishes like to swim in schools.
Bison run in herds,
But anywhere we look, we see
Birds, birds, birds.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




Shadows Creep

Shadows creep along the wall.
They spread along the ground.
When I'm in my bed at night,
I see shadows all around.

Shadows, when they come nearby,
Can be a friendly sight.
I know when I see shadows
That somewhere near there's light.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




The Bearded Man

I saw a man who wore a beard
That grew down to his knees.
It reminded me of Spanish moss
That hangs from live oak trees.

If he decides to see a barber
To have it shaved some day,
He may need a wheel barrow
To carry it away.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




Ice Cream Problem

Eat your ice cream cone too fast
And your tummy may feel icky.
Eat your ice cream cone too slow
And your fingers may get sticky.

You can solve your ice cream problem
By eating slow, I think.
Then taking sticky fingers
To be washed off in the sink.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




My Travel Chair

I can sail across an ocean,
While I'm sitting in my chair.
Or watch zebras run in Africa
Without ever going there.

How did the ancient Aztecs live?
Why, I think I'll have a look.
Excuse me for a moment,
While I open up a book.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




Birds

Birds in the bird bath,
What a splash they make.
Tail feathers, wing feathers
Shake, shake, shake.

Birds at the feeder,
Steady on their feet.
Red birds, yellow birds
Eat, eat, eat.

Birds in the tree tops,
On the beach, in the sky.
Birds run, birds wade, birds
Fly, fly, fly.

Hummingbirds and ostriches,
Tiny birds and big.
Robins in the garden that
Dig, dig, dig.

Birds that chirp and warble,
Birds that tweet and sing,
Birds that talk by flapping
A wing, wing, wing.

Fishes love to swim in schools.
Bison run in herds,
But anywhere we look, we see
Birds, birds, birds.
Copyright © Dominic Martia




I Met a Butterfly

I met a butterfly today,
Sitting on a tree.
When I said, "Good morning,"
It said nothing back to me.

I asked what it was doing,
But it refused to tell.
I asked if it was tired
Or wasn't feeling well.

And then it opened up its wings,
As though to wave goodbye,
And flew and fluttered all around,
Just like a butterfly.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




What I See

I lie down and watch the sky,
And this is what I see:
Clouds like big white elephants
Passing over me.

Behind the clouds, I see the sun,
Like a floating gold balloon.
But when I watch the sky at night
I see a silver moon.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




Where Noses Run

I know a town where noses run,
Where heads can learn to swim,
Where shrubs must get their exercise,
Because they're always trim.

It's so quiet there that no one hears
The crash of falling night.
Whatever day breaks, when it comes,
It always makes it right.

This town sits, even when it sleeps,
I think because it wants to try
To count the running noses
Or watch time as it flies by.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




The Balloon's Adventure

A balloon said, "I feel empty.
All I do is lie around."
Then someone filled it up
And made it big and round.

And tied a string around its hole,
And tossed it toward the sky.
And up it went, up, up, up
More than a mile high.

So now it floats above the earth,
Not empty anymore,
It's happy, for it knows that this
Is what balloons are for.

Copyright © Dominic Martia




Watching Waves

Waves are wearing robes of blue.
They're wearing caps of white.
Some waves are short, others tall,
And each of them shines bright.

One by one the waves march in
To throw their caps upon the shore.
No matter how many waves I count,
Behind are many more.

Copyright © Dominic Martia





Snow Angel


I made an angel in the snow
That we had yesterday.
The sun was warm today, and so
My angel flew away.

Copyright © Dominic Martia





Sheets


Mother does the laundry
And hangs the sheets out on the line.
One of them is Molly's
And one of them is mine.

When they dry, I don't mind
If mother makes a switch.
Even when I sleep in them,
I can't tell which is which.

Copyright © Dominic Martia





I'm Very Good


I'm very good at making things,
Not cookies, cakes or dresses.
According to my mother,
I excel at making messes

Copyright © Dominic Martia



Bananas


Bananas just aren't juicy,
Like grapes or tangerines.
They hang around in bunches
Like overgrown green beans.
They cover themselves tightly
In a thick and heavy wrap.
You can't tell where their head is
Because they never wear a cap.
You could say that they're eccentric,
Not like apples, pears or plums.
But every bite of a banana
Is a bite of yum, yum, yums.





The Frog at My Window


There's a frog outside my window
Who has so much to say
And thinks that he must say it here.
Won't he ever go away?

From morning until eight pm,
He doesn't make a peep.
But all night long he croaks away.
How will I ever sleep?

If I can ever find him,
I'll tie him to a stake.
I'll tickle him and sing loud songs
To be sure he stays awake.

And at eight pm I'll lay him
On a froggy feather bed
And make sure he's warm and snug
And completely comforted.

I'll watch him till he closes
His froggy eyes up tight,
And I'll repeat this process
Every day and every night

Until I'm sure my froggy friend
Will be asleep by eight,
And I can sleep because I know
He has his schedule straight.

Copyright © Dominic Martia





My Pencil


I have a little pencil,
A pencil I call mine.
Its wood is painted yellow.
Its lead is medium fine.

I write with it for hours,
Though now and then I stop
To use the red eraser
At my pencil's very top.

The more the pages fill up,
The shorter the lead grows;
But nothing that I write can show
Where the red eraser goes.

Copyright © Dominic Martia





A Special Day


A special day is coming.
It's coming very soon.
On the gate outside our house
We'll tie a red balloon.

We'll hang crepe paper everywhere.
Mom will bake a layer cake,
And everyone will make
All the noise they want to make.

We'll sing songs and play some games.
We'll all have so much fun,
And I'll be one year older
When my special day is done.

Copyright © Dominic Martia





Sharing


Sharing is a good thing.
That's what I've been told.
I should share my toys and treats,
But should I share my cold?

And what about my sadness
When the sky is dark and low
Or Mom is leaving for the day,
And I wish she wouldn't go?

I love to share my good things.
It makes me happy too
When I can make you happy
By sharing them with you.

But what about the bad things?
As true friends, let's agree
That I'll share mine with you
And you'll share yours with me.

Copyright © Dominic Martia


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