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A Kid's Story Poem. It's kind of long, but that's just what it is. I can make a short version. Do you like it?
There once was a young boy named Ned
who wouldn't say put in his bed.
His mother had kissed him at eight,
tucked him in and pulled the sheets straight.
And darkness filled all the room 'round,
so that Ned could hear nary a sound.
He should have been sleepy, he knew,
but outside the winter wind blew.
And how could the day end just so?
Poor Ned still had places to go!
And even if destined to sleep,
there were wishes and dreams he must keep
They played and built castles all day,
then at night had to put them away
They could never grow tired of tag,
nor could a puppy's tail wag its last wag!
It's hard saying goodnight to friends.
Little boys prefer beginnings to ends.
Ned still had some growing to do,
and each day he started anew.
And these were the usual things,
that made up his summers and springs!
=============================
Tonight was a cold night in winter.
They had stacked wood and made the logs splinter.
And while the pillow tousled his hair,
outside a storm blustered the air.
Big tree branches scratched the night air.
Ned was glad that his parents were there!
Ned knew that the fire still burned
in the big room. Alone his heart yearned.
He knew that the embers still glow.
If he waited, then no one would know!
As he lay, his awareness was heightened.
To his eyes, the room gradually lightened.
So Ned said his prayers and he waited
His plan was still there, just belated!
=============================
Ned listened for sounds in the house,
but his parents were quiet as a mouse.
They tip-toed about without sound,
but Ned knew they were up and around.
At long last the steps made a CREEK!
Ned could tell there were two sets of feet.
He lay stone-still, his heart pounding,
his thoughts and his visions abounding!
Ascending, the sounds turned to the right.
Ned could hear his parent's door shut tight.
The light from the crack in the door
was flicked off and then was no more.
=============================
So now was the time for decision.
Ned's plan would require precision!
His plan was to make it downstairs,
but before him lay pitfalls and snares.
And the first was the sound of his feet,
he knew, as he slipped from the sheet.
Little boys know how to make the door CLICK
but just when the big clock went TICK
He knew how to hold to the rails
and step where the boards had no nails
And bundled from head to tip-toe
Ned set out for the big room below
Ned stood at the foot of the stair
The fire tinged the chill in the air
=============================
A flame flickered and the embers glowed bright
Ned stepped forward his feet feeling light
Then he lay down and drew up his feet
it felt good to lie close by the heat
Darkness deepened and cast its long palls
and shapes great and small danced the walls
Ned's eyelids grew heavy and then fell
but there's more to our story to tell!
=============================
Day came now to visit the boy
but now the Real Things were a toy
His school was a great stone-built castle
The guards wore a steel helmet and tassel
The spires of the castle rose high
past the clouds and far into the sky
Ned's teachers were all dressed up as knights
on big stallions, could give you a fright!
And somehow the boy was the King
which was not the only strange thing
His mommy and daddy weren't 'round
and he as the one that they'd crowned
A fair princess was imprisoned up where
a great dragon had captured here there
In this land where time had stood still
Young Ned found a test for his will
=============================
Well, there wasn't so much he could do
So he set out to see the thing through
Ned started to climb the tall spire
step by step, and it seemed to grow higher
He could hear then that someone was calling
and he climbed on with no thought of falling
When he finally came to the top
two big bolts on a door made him stop
And poor Ned spoke as brave as he could
“Never fear! This door is just wood!”
And then from the shadows, a great roar!
The great dragon rose from the floor
A terrible green monster in scales
His huge claws were sharper than nails
He blew clouds of black smoke all around
belched hot fire and shook the whole ground
Then he spoke, and he said, "I'm to dine!
And you'd make a fine morsel, with wine!"
=============================
The mean old dragon took aim
and shot directly at Ned with his flame
But Ned saw it and jumped to the side
There was still no place he could hide
And the flame burnt the locks off the door
Ned leaped in and lit on the floor
"We have only one hope," the princess said
Quick! Or we'll both wind up dead!
"Cut a lock from my hair, and count three,
and we'll sail from this place, be set free!"
So Ned scattered her hair like a sail,
and they landed safely, though shaken and pale
The dragon had set the place burning
It was
dragon had set the place burning
It was clear there would be no returning
The two had no moment to spare
with the smoke and the flames in the air
=============================
When the fire had finally died down
Ned discovered he'd misplaced his crown!
It must have been lost in their flight
as they fell through the air in the night
And the princess had lost something too!
It seems she had lost her right shoe
And a king with no crown must go home
while a princess with no shoe cannot roam
=============================
As Ned stared into the fire's ember
he started to faintly remember
Here was carpet, not grasses that grow
and no castle, just the wall and his shadow
And whether kings and princesses come out
in unsure. Now the fire was out!
And quite suddenly, the big room was chilling
and with change of heart, Ned was now willing
to crawl off to sleep in his bed
and nothing more need be said!
Poemhunter.com is fun. Thanks GJ for the referral to it. http://www.poemhunter.com/tom-courtney/poems/
3 Answers
- 1 decade agoFavorite Answer
Great poem I must say.
Children will love it!!
Source(s): Why not submit it to http://www.kidsstoriesonline.com/ so kids can see your poem and tell you what they think. - 5 years ago
The poem and the short story have some things in common: A storyline, form, theme, language, and the authorial voice (as point of view or as persona). But the form with the most brevity is poetry. It allows compact and precise composition as well as license to break rules of grammar and tradition. Short stories typically have the tried and true beginning, middle and end, and they opperate on a schemata from problem to climax to resolution. Gertude Stein wrote a piece in defense of the short story and the public's appreciation of any prose, called "Composition as Explanation." Robert Frost wrote a piece called "Education by Poetry" which insists that everyone needs to understand metaphor in order to understand persuasion, literature and politics. Edgar Allen Poe wrote "The Principle of Composition" a treatise on how he composed The Raven, and it makes a case for modern detective and suspense. I am a poet and a short sorty writer, but I htink i prefer the poem to the story, though I love both forms. The message determines the medium. Some people write poetry as if it is a matter of dashing loose phrases that rhyme together. It is not. Some people write stories that include details that do nothing to enhance the story. Which is better? Neither. So, one must know the limits and the power of the form to truly choose when one or the other is appropriate and most useful.
- ♥iman21♥Lv 51 decade ago
i like it!
it's cute!
it would make a good children's book with illustrations and things.