Poems touch, teach and entertain people of every size and age. This week we will ask you to write a children’s poem that teaches a lesson. But, the lesson is meant for the parents or the responsible adult. The moral of this story is have fun and learn a little something about ourselves.

Marie Elena’s Poem:

(positive self-talk for middle-grade children)

Today I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed,
‘cause everything is mixed up in the brain inside my head.
I couldn’t seem to get things straight. There’s nothing I could do.
But then I told my dad, and he said, “Son, that’s just not true.”
My Father said, “Can’t never could, ‘cause can’t will never try.
But can works hard to get it right. Can helps us to get by.
Don’t ever tell yourself you can’t; that you don’t have the skill.
Just say ‘I can,’ and try your best, then certainly you will.”

So, I said to me:
“I’ll make it be.
I’ll try with all my might.
I’ll do my part,
I’m plenty smart,
And things will be alright.”

Now when I start to say “I can’t,” I hear my father’s voice.
It tells me “Hey – you know you can. Just simply make that choice.”


Walt’s Poem:


Daddy, can I walk with you?
You go so far and I can’t keep up.
Help me, mommy says supper is ready
and I can’t catch my breath.

Daddy, will you walk with me?
I can’t cross the street
and my ball rolled over there.
I’m scared until you hold my hand and take me.

Daddy, will you be there when I walk
across this stage in my flowing gown?
My mortar board keeps sliding off of my head,
and I’d rather let my tresses flow instead.

Daddy, will you walk with me,
on this day  that I become a bride?
I see it in your eyes: the pride
and love and sadness when you get me there.

Daddy, I’ll help you walk.
I’ll be right here to show the way as you did.
Every day I’ll take your hand and stand besides YOU.
I will be here to guide you. Until you walk with me again.

260 thoughts on “MORAL OF THE STORY – Prompt #42

  1. Counting

    one for Mommy
    three for Daddy
    None for chicken stew

    but always, always
    me for you
    five of us stay true

    a year here
    gone and gone again
    still, once back then

    one for Mommy
    three for Daddy
    smiles our constant brew

  2. That’s a great start, Jane! Hopefully we can all use your words as a good jump-off point! Thanks for the lesson too!

  3. I had mine ready, so I’m quick today 🙂
    Marie, enjoyed your poem! Walt, feel better soon! Take care.

    ~You Are The Be(a)st!~

    It happened in a misty land,
    Where beastly creatures dwell.
    A yelp was heard to lend a hand
    (Or was it ‘paw’? Oh, well.)

    “What must I do? Where should I go?
    I need to have a plan!
    I have to know! I want to grow!
    Please, help me if you can!”

    “My little beast, you’re worried sick!
    It’s going to be OK!
    Sit down, have some chocolate milk,
    And hear what I say:

    You will find out what you’re about,
    Just do your very best,
    And Mother Nature will – no doubt –
    Take care of the rest.

    Before you know it, you’ll grow
    And see what future brings.
    Have fun, and go with the flow,
    And try all sorts of things.

    Try wiggling ears, growing claws,
    Try glowing in the dark,
    Try rolling eyes and clicking jaws,
    Try grinning like a shark,

    Try sleeping in the scariest cave,
    Try howling at the moon,
    And if you’re really, really brave,
    Try eating with a spoon!

    Try being small, but standing tall,
    Try out your mighty roar!
    And when you think you’ve tried it all,
    Try trying even more!

    Try ups and downs… never fear:
    You’ll find your guiding star.
    But most importantly, my dear,
    Just be the beast you are.

    I’m always with you, always near,
    No matter how far.
    And I will always love you, dear,
    Just for the beast you are.”

  4. Set a Good Example

    Please teach me of kindness.
    Show me the right way.
    Set a good example
    each and every day.

    I want to grow up loving
    each and everyone.
    Teach me all the lessons
    daily, one by one.

    I’m watching all that you do.
    I’m saving what you show.
    Set a good example.
    I’m learning as I grow.

    By Michael Grove

  5. He Walt, just take care of that foot. My daughter broke hers in the Autumn and still has a few problems because she didn’t do what the doctors ordered! Back later with a poem.

  6. Marie, such good words to live by and such a beautiful genuine heart behind them.

    I’m so sorry about your foot, Walt, hope it will heal up strong without too much trouble.

    Warm-smiles all @…


    No one lives in glasshouses.
    No, granddad doesn’t.

    Well, when I say he doesn’t,
    he doesn’t.

    What has stones got to do with it?
    Oh, so they said you shouldn’t throw stones?

    Oh, the saying with the glasshouse?
    That’s a great one.

    Yeah, great,
    only it says rocks,
    not stones.

    Well, when I say it says rocks,
    it does.

    No, granddad doesn’t throw rocks and
    he grows tomatoes
    in his glasshouse.

    Yeah, great,
    but not stones.
    You’ve got it now.

  8. Color Wheel

    Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    Always support me
    I’ll be grateful to you.

    Daffodils are yellow
    Daisies are white
    Please pray for me
    In the morning and night.

    The sky is blue
    The grass is green
    It might not be easy
    When I am a teen.

    Pansies are purple
    Carnations are red
    I watch what you do
    I’ve heard what you’ve said.

    Marigolds are orange
    Peonies are pink
    No matter how I may act
    I do care what you think.

    Rules are black and white
    There are occasions for gray
    The lessons you’ve taught me
    In my heart they will stay.

  9. Harmony

    Warren’s yowls in the stairwell
    are not so very musical;
    they echo like a trembling yell
    when Flora’s feeling snoozical.

    She hisses at him from the top;
    he sings his loudest tenor.
    If he’d come near, he’d get a bop
    to shush him ‘til next winter.

    But he’s a happy singing cat
    whose echo chamber loves his voice.
    Why should hearers recoil at that?
    Why not join in and just rejoice?

    Soon dogs are barking everywhere
    and children sing and mock and laugh,
    while Flora joins that bag of fur
    below and sings better by half.

    Sort of soprano wailing, she;
    sort of a feline aria, he;
    sort of staccato rhythmic barks;
    she sings the lights, and he, the darks.

    Soon, out of that cacophony
    of meows and waarrs and nasal calls,
    the two become a symphony
    of joy that echoes down the halls.

    The song—unpleasant to the ear
    of all except those singing it—
    changed Flora’s anger into cheer,
    far better than a hissy fit.

    And Warren warbles his reprise,
    knowing that happy hearts repair
    with willingness to harmonize
    from tops and bottoms of life’s stairs.

  10. Starting Small

    Two children pled with Mom and Dad
    Please, can we have some mice?
    “They’re so small, no trouble at all
    And such a bargain price. “

    At last, their parents said okay.
    They told the clerk, “Be sure
    They’re brothers OR sisters because
    We don’t want any more.”

    The kids took their tiny friends home,
    Cared for them with a smile.
    But Mom knew the pet man was wrong,
    After a little while.

    One mouse’s tummy got bigger.
    And then early one morn,
    The kids peeked in the cage, with shock,
    Seeing ten mice were born.

    Taking care of a dozen mice
    Didn’t seem quite as fun.
    To make things worse, the mice got out.
    They had to catch each one.

    It didn’t seem like much time passed
    Till the mice family grew.
    Now there were aunts, uncles, cousins
    And some grand children, too.

    The two children couldn’t keep up
    With the chores to be done.
    Taking care of so many mice
    Had set them on the run.

    After mouse fifty-two, Mom said,
    “We’ve got a mess I fear.
    They’re dirty, stinky and smelly.
    Get these mice out of here!”

    So they boxed up the little mice
    sadly, by the dozens:
    Sons, daughters, brothers and sisters
    Aunts, uncles and cousins.

    Temptation may look thrilling but
    you may need to confess,
    though it may seem harmless fun, it
    May end up a big mess!

  11. Sharing is Fun

    See the puppies playing?
    What to you think they are saying?
    “I will chase you when your grab the ball,
    then you chase me and run down the hall.”
    How sweet to see them share their toys,
    though they sometimes make too much noise.
    So when your brother asks to use your paints,
    let him, and he’ll let you play trains with no complaints.

  12. You better take better care of yourselves, kids. Don’t go round breaking.

    I don’t think I got the prompt right, but here goes

    What’s New?

    What’s new
    to you
    new, to you.
    To you, it’s new if it is old.
    are new to something, too.
    New or old,
    are you
    what’s new?

    • Mark, mine are 18 and 25. Melissa (25) is engaged and I’m anticipated a tearful walk with her down the line. Andrea (18) will drag me along kicking and screaming.

      • Walt, I’m so sorry to hear about how you stumble around at the moment. I wish that you’ll be dancing around soon and no doubt you will, having those great kids there. And I think it’s great that your daughter is Andrea. I’m Andrea because my grandmother was Andrea and hers, too. And she came from the region which is now Poland..

  13. Not sure I am in the spirit of things. Not exactly a children’s poem; not sure my typically ‘dark’ writing lends itself to that genre. Also, a somewhat recurring theme for me lately.


    Remember child,
    we should always
    Let others have
    a turn with
    your toys,
    and always
    offer some of
    your food to
    those at the table.

    Yes, Daddy,
    I will try.
    Should we give some
    of our doughnuts
    to the man with the


    You don’t have to think like me
    I don’t need to think your thoughts,
    We can meet in the middle there
    And have a game of blocks.
    Building together is learning how
    To work in harmony
    Your thoughts are not my thoughts
    And my thoughts aren’t yours
    But building is practice
    At learning to share,
    Differing opinions
    A sign of healthy “play.”
    You can knock the blocks this time
    And I’ll have a turn another day!

  15. Pingback: Poem for a delinquent infant | Vivinfrance's Blog

  16. I don’t know where that trackback came from! I always put a link in my post, but it doesn’t always do that! I just came here to put the poem here.

    Poem for a delinquent infant

    A snackcident-prone daughter
    ate much more than she oughta,
    which discombobulated her tum.

    The fridge was left bare
    but for a jugged hare*
    which she left for her home-coming Mum.

    Isn’t it a pity
    this silly little ditty
    was written at all, ho-hum.

    *a dish from the past
    which no-one can taste
    for the hare
    isn’t there
    any more.

  17. (Joseph Harker’s ‘Anoka” piece broke my heart…)


    Child, always be kind.
    Kindness does not cost a thing,
    though for most, it does…


    At 5, she was taught
    and she was told,
    in no uncertain terms,

    tell no stories, my girl,
    and tell no tales,
    or a fur-flying and

    furry-ocious scolding,
    gazookingly ever so stern,
    she might possibly receive.

    Feck, she thought.

    So she gazookingly
    did as she was taught,
    putting a tight lid

    on all and every telling
    of stories or fanciful tales….
    which pippity-pooh got her

    furry-ocious scoldings
    and gazookingly stern
    huffity-puffs all the same,

    because telling no tales
    meant only telling
    the truth

    and now everyone thought
    her an awfully-blah-blah,
    rude little girl.

    Feck, she thought.

    So for the rest of her
    long, wordy-inky-linky life
    she wrote and told stories

    without furry-ocious scolding
    or strife, except during
    Novembers and Aprils

    when she only wrote poems
    and said the word ‘feck’
    a gazookingly awfully lot.

    Moral: Pick and Choose your gazookish stories so the Oldies don’t give you furry-ocious huffity-puffs


    These two little girls,
    one’s brunette and the other’s
    blonde with bouncy curls,
    share a room where they sleep.
    They laugh and play and scowl
    and glare, and sometimes say

    shockingly foul things to each other.
    Tongues wiggling and sticking out,
    and tears of anger rolling down
    their cheeks, they pout, they stare.
    They’re sisters, quite a pair,
    and they’re supposed to love

    one another. They do but they
    won’t really know that
    or understand what it means
    until they’re both all grown up.
    Maybe when they’re really old,
    like 202-years from now when their

    cold joints creak and pop, and they
    push themselves along
    with wooden walking sticks
    so their spines don’t curl
    round like a cinnamon roll.
    Maybe then they’ll remember

    they love one another and
    they’ll know what it means,
    but until then they’ll just keep on
    glaring and hissing and swinging
    dollies at each other until they’re
    told to kiss and make up.

    Moral: Be sweet, play nice with your little sister,
    or you might just have to hug and kiss her.

  20. Twinkle Twinkle in Your Eye

    Grandpa can I have your phone
    Yes, of course, just don’t call Rome
    Now can I play with your guitar
    Certainly – just don’t take it far

    Every day goes by so quickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air
    Life is full but can turn sickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air

    Grandma would you read to me
    Anything – pick a book and let’s see
    Now tuck me in and sing a song
    A lullaby? We can’t go wrong

    Every day goes by so quickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air
    Life is full but can turn sickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air

    Grandpa come and play house
    I’ll be the dragon, you be the mouse
    Grandma you rock the baby please
    He keeps crying on your knees

    Every day goes by so quickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air
    Life is full but can turn sickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air

    Let’s bake cookies, then play ball
    No more timeouts in the hall
    Do you love me, tell me more
    I’m a big boy, now I’m four

    Every day goes by so quickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air
    Life is full but can turn sickly
    And time – it goes like smoke in air


  21. I’m struggling with my English every day and I’m often uncertain whether I picked a US or a British expression. I love to use my online dictionaries so when you write “ephemeral” and “evaporates,” it’s just great because I love such challenges and I can look up the words.
    But does it say “granddad” in US English? Because if I can’t, I must change my poem. I have an American editor but I don’t send my poems to her. Still, I’d like to keep my words in US English here and that’s a bit difficult for me because my English university degree is in British English.
    Anyway, can you say “granddad” in US English?
    And also: what’s a “fun poem?”

  22. Thank you, Sasha, happy girl…..! The photos are lovely and the music is wonderful! I tell you….. Love is Love, in any language; I can FEEL the rich emotion of this wonderful song!!! Hen

  23. Happy, I enjoyed your video and yes, it’s great. I was back in Crete and in my twenties so yes, you got me.
    Here I share my video for you. My editor on Salt’s sent it and I think it speaks poetry.
    Please enjoy.


    Dedicated to Sgt. William Stacey, a 23-year-old Marine who died in Afghanistan a few weeks ago. And to all the warriors we have lost and love.

    William was a warrior.
    So off to war he went,
    as warriors often do.

    He kissed his girl
    and faced his fate,
    in a far off place

    full of warriors who
    had kissed thier own
    wives and mothers

    faced their own fates,
    fighting to protect
    an idea that burned

    as deep as their love
    for the women who
    would stare at some

    far-off place as they
    thought of the men
    they loved, off at war,

    hoping they would
    come home to love
    them once more.

    William was a warrior.
    He died for this love.
    As warriors often do.


    He rode into town on a white charger,
    or perhaps t’was a white Ford, loaded up
    with all that he owned. The man was abuzz
    with his mobile phone set to vibrate, and
    his hair combed back neat and wet from the rain.
    He’s a blonde prince charming, and his dragon,
    of whom he is very fond, stretched over
    the bonnet of his car, eyes wandering
    from line to line, reading a sonnet by
    John Keats; a fine piece about a cricket.
    The dragon was famished, so crickets and
    a flagon of wine sounded très sublime,
    so it spun round on its slimy foot and
    ate every last grimy morsel in sight.

    Moral: Look after your dragon and don’t forget to feed it. A dragon is forever, not just for Valentine’s Day.

  26. Late to the party, and no time to read yet. This was fun, thank you!
    Here’s mine:

    Much Adoo

    Change is inevitable, dear Mom and Dad
    there’s a lot that’s up “down there”
    and to get down and dirty,
    this warning’s only fair.

    If I go whooshing by you
    and your nose begins to crink,
    never, ever, ever
    to see if I might stink.

    If I’m toting a full load in here
    this baby just might blow
    these swaddled buns are packing heat.
    (Hear that? Look out below!)

    The bottom line is simple,
    from where I, toddling, stand:
    Even the most innocent fingered check
    means a big surprise at hand.

    There’s a moral to this poem, folks
    (Now hush, and listen much):
    It’s always, always, always best
    to look before you touch.

  27. I’ve gots this nifty little game, involving most clever calculations:
    To brighten my day and give a smiley say to depressing situations.

    The steps are: 1st, imagine the worst, and think until you’re sad.
    Then open your eyes and then realize things aren’t really all that bad.

    So, like last night? I busted my night light resembling a beehive.
    But I played that game when monsters came, so I made it out alive.

    I explained the game when I took the parking brake off and we had a spill.
    I think Dad got stymied when the tow truck guy said something about the bill.

  28. “Much Adoo” was a lot of fun and funny! I haven’t written poetry regularly for awhile, and I look forward to sharpening my skills with all the talent here!

    • JOHN!!!! SO GOOD TO SEE YOU OUT HERE!! It really has been entirely too long since I’ve enjoyed your poems and your company. Welcome!!

      Marie Elena

  29. Distractions…

    Look Daddy look
    Did you see me score?
    Just a minute, son
    I’ve just got one more
    Text coming through
    And then I’m done
    Daddy, look daddy,
    Did you see me fly?
    Sorry, I missed it
    I had to reply
    To the text
    I’m almost done…

    Moral of the Tale:
    If you want to play
    Put your phone away

    (The above poem was inspired on the way home from my
    son’s hockey game tonight.
    We passed a rink where the little guy was out
    with his hockey stick and his dad,
    who was looking at his phone.)

    Drop a seed into the ground
    Even when no one knows
    Good or bad, it will be found
    As it begins to grow

    There is forgiveness for all sin
    His grace, our recompense
    But it cannot pluck off the fruit
    Simply called; consequence

    Moral of the tale:
    Be careful what you sow.

    Walt and Marie, and everyone else. Thank-you for beautiful inspiration, wisdom and chuckles.

  30. Hand me the duct tape, son

    Hand me the duct tape, son,
    and don’t argue with me,
    or say, “I told you so.”
    This old head’s forgotten
    more than you’ll ever know!

    Hand me the duct tape, son,
    And hold that bucket still
    When mom gets home, she’ll be
    Amazed at how we did
    This job so perfectly.

    Hand me the duct tape, son.
    Watch and learn – only a
    Quitter thinks he must
    Pay a plumber to plug
    A small mistake. Just

    hand me the duct tape, son,
    and put a throw-rug down.
    Our manhood is at stake
    Tonight – so play it cool,
    And pray the tape won’t break…

  31. Pingback: YOUnique « echoes from the silence

  32. YOUnique
    (a shadorma)

    No matter
    how much you look like
    someone else,
    you have been
    wonderfully, uniquely
    made! There’s just one YOU!

    # # #

    This goes along with a picture of penguins, which you can see on my blog.

  33. Pingback: Posting Poetry Prompts: Friday Freeforall « Margo Roby: Wordgathering

  34. Beauty Within

    Caramel and golden hair
    not from a box
    but from genetics we
    didn’t know we could produce.
    Legs that reach the clouds
    where her mind spends most
    of its time.
    She shines with
    radiant smile and apple cheeks.
    But her chestnut eyes
    don’t sparkle as her image reflects
    back to her.
    Her smile fades until
    she frowns.
    Her beauty hidden from
    her pre-adolescent eyes.
    I fold her underneath my chin
    wrapped snuggly within my arms,
    she doesn’t know her charm
    her grace
    how much I wish I had her face.
    But then she whispers up to me,
    “Why can’t I be pretty like you are?”
    She doesn’t see the extra weight
    the lines settling into place,
    she sees the person I am inside
    the kind heart I never try to hide.
    I point out all her perfect features
    her warmth, her love
    her slender silhouette.
    But never will I forget
    her reminder that I often neglect
    to see the beauty within me,
    just as I remind her to see.

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