POETS AND THEIR POEMS

Karla Kuskin  (1932-2009) is a favorite children's author and poet.
           I had a cat, grey, soft, fat, given to grrrring, quite softly and prrrring.  Slipped off one morning, near the green glen.  That was my cat, who was not seen again. 

           I had a dog, noisy and yellow, very cold nose, wonderful fellow.  Trotted one evening out after a pack of dog-footed friends and never came back.

           I had a bird, bright blue in a cage, sang without cease on his miniature stage.  Sat on my shoulder looked in my eye, sailed out the window and into the sky.

           I had a lion, furry and kind, sits on a shelf, near the autos that wind.  Eyes wild and golden, tail like a tuft, he never will slip out and leave me.  He's stuffed.

Valerie Worth  (1933-1994) wrote poems about ordinary and sometimes small things, such as bugs and mud.  This poem is called "Stars."
           While weknow they are Enormous suns, Gold lashing Fire-oceans, Seas of heavy silver flam.  They look as though they could be swept down, and heaped, cold crystal sparks, in one cupped palm.

Jack Prelutsky (1940---) loves to have fun with language.  Here's his poem "It's Raining Pigs and Noodles":
            It's raining pigs and noodles, it's raining frogs and hat's, chrysanthemums and poodles, bananas, brooms, and cats.  Assorted prunes and parrots are dropping from the sky, here comes a bunch of carrots, some hippopotami.  It's raining pens and pickels, and eggs and silverware.  A flood of figs and nickels is falling through the air.  I see a swan, a sweater, a clock, a model train--- I like this so much better than when it's raining rain.

Shel Silverstein's (1930-1999) poems have enchanted kids and adults for many years.  Two favorites are "The Giving Tree" and "The Missing Piece."  This poem, called "One Inch Tall," is from Shel's book "Where the Sidewalk Ends":
          If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.  The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.  A crumb of cake would be a feast and last you seven days at least, A flea would be a frightening beast If you were one inch tall.
          If you were one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door, and it would take about a month to get down to the store.  A bit of fluff would be your bed, you'd swing upon a spider's thread, and wear a thimble on your head if you were one inch tall.
          You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.  You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb, you'd run from people's feet in fright, to move a pen would take all night.
(This poem took fourteen years to write --- 'Cause I'm just one inch tall).