Poetry for Kids

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt

With St. Patrick’s Day coming up, I thought it would be fun to write a poem about the tradition of trying to catch a leprechaun and find his pot of gold. Many kids set leprechaun traps, hoping to outsmart the tricky little creatures. But I started wondering—what if, after all that effort, you didn’t catch a leprechaun at all? What if you ended up catching something much less exciting instead?

That idea made me laugh, so I decided to turn it into this poem. I hope it makes you laugh too—and that if you go searching for leprechauns, you have better luck than the narrator of this poem!

I Tried to Catch a Leprechaun

I went out on St. Patrick’s Day—
a morning wet and cold—
to try to catch a leprechaun
and find his pot of gold.

I saw a rainbow down the street
and just around the bend.
I chased it through the chilly rain
but never found its end.

I hunted for a fairy fort
where leprechauns might be.
I searched through soggy clover fields
and in a hollow tree.

I even built a special trap,
but it was all in vain.
And so, at last, I trudged back home
in frigid wind and rain.

I spent the whole day searching,
but I found no pot of gold.
I never caught that leprechaun.
I only caught a cold.

— Kenn Nesbitt

I have a couple of cats, and they both love to sit on my lap. Whenever I’m watching TV or playing a video game, one of my cats will jump up on my lap and go to sleep. Sometimes, they both sit on my lap at the same time!

Over the past few months, I have been referring to them as my “laptops” because they are so often on top of my lap. So it occurred to me that perhaps I could write a poem about getting a new “laptop” that was not a computer. I hope you enjoy it.

I Got a New Laptop for Christmas

I got a new “laptop” for Christmas.
It’s awesome and couldn’t be cuter.
It isn’t a regular laptop.
It isn’t some kind of computer.

This laptop’s not battery-powered.
It’s missing a keyboard and screen.
It doesn’t connect to the wi-fi.
It’s not some device or machine.

And, yet, I’m in love with my laptop.
You might even say that I’m smitten.
I asked for a laptop for Christmas,
so Santa Claus brought me a kitten.

—Kenn Nesbitt

This Christmas poem is all about an “idiom.” In case you don’t know, an idiom is an expression whose meaning is not predictable from the words used. For example, to “kick the bucket” means to die, and to “let the cat out of the bag” means to reveal a secret. If you were just learning English, you might not be able to decipher the meanings of these expressions and would need to look them up or have someone explain them to you.

Many times, I will take a common idiom and base a poem around the fact that it might have multiple meanings; both the literal meaning of the words and the actual meaning of the expression.

In this poem, the idiom I used is the very last line of the poem, and the humor is in the fact that it has two different meanings, depending on how you look at it.

If you would like to read more poems that use common idioms, have a look at the “Poems by Poetic Technique” page on poetry4kids.com.

Sleeping Santa

I woke this Christmas morning
and, much to my surprise,
a sleeping, snoring Santa Claus
was there before my eyes.

It seems he was exhausted
from staying up all night,
delivering his presents on
a long and tiring flight.

He made it to our fireplace,
before he fell asleep,
but couldn’t take another step
and crumpled in a heap.

And there he slumbered soundly.
He slept the night away,
until I came upon him on
in the hearth on Christmas day.

My puppy started barking.
My sister gave a yell.
But Santa didn’t hear a thing
as far as I could tell.

He didn’t feel me shake him.
He didn’t hear the dog.
So Santa’s at our house this morning,
sleeping like a log.

—Kenn Nesbitt

If you’ve ever talked to an assistant on a mobile device, like Siri, Alexa, or Google Assistant, you probably know that it doesn’t always understand what you are saying as well as you would like. And, often, when you type on a phone or tablet, the autocorrect feature can make some pretty bizarre mistakes.

I was thinking about this the other day and I wondered what would happen if you tried to get Siri to do your homework problems for you. Would she understand your questions and give you correct answers, or would she occasionally make crazy errors? What if every answer was wrong, and yet you wrote them down anyway?

That was where the idea for this poem came from. Of course, even though this is an exaggeration that would never happen in real life, I recommend you do your own homework rather than relying on your phone to do it for you, just in case.

My iPhone Did My Homework

My iPhone did my homework.
I simply talked to Siri.
I read her all the problems
and she answered every query.

I asked her, “What is five times twelve?”
She answered, “Allentown.”
Her answer seemed suspicious
but I shrugged and wrote it down.

I asked her, “Who’s the President
or leader of Peru?”
She answered, “Forty seven,”
so I wrote that one down too.

I asked her ten more questions,
and she answered every one.
Her answers seemed bizarre
but I was glad to have it done.

It seems that Siri’s not too smart,
or maybe slightly deaf.
I turned my homework in today
and got big, red “F.”

I guess, for homework,
Siri’s not the best to call upon.
I’ll only let Alexa
do my homework from now on.

—Kenn Nesbitt

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt. Today, I want to share a new poem that’s based on a true story.

I have a cat named Reed. You might think I named him that because I like to read, but really it’s because he was rescued from a summer camp called Camp Reed.

When I first got Reed, he was just a tiny kitten. I remember how he loved to play and explore, but one thing he really liked to do was scratch. I don’t mean he liked to scratch the furniture or the curtains. I mean he liked to scratch ME.

Even though Reed is now a full-grown cat, he still scratches me sometimes, especially when he gets tired of me petting him too much. This poem is inspired by my experiences with Reed and how much I love him, despite all the scratches. I hope you enjoy “Brand New Cat.”

Brand New Cat

I got myself a brand new cat,
a teeny-tiny kitten.
She’s smaller than your average cat.
She fits inside a mitten.
I’m so in love with my new cat,
it’s fair to say I’m smitten.
I’m also scratched and scraped and scarred
and sliced and slashed and bitten.

— Kenn Nesbitt