Children’s Day Poem in English for Kids and Children [2023]

Children’s Day Poem in English: Childhood, the most beautiful phase of our life is something every one of us remembers for a lifetime. It is our early years that shape our personalities and make us who we end up becoming years later. All of our beliefs, values, and cultures that adorn our personalities are formed during these early years of our lives. But childhood is also the most easily passed on stage of our life, we literally don’t get to enjoy much of it. To celebrate this beautiful experience of childhood, Children’s Day is celebrated every year on 14th November. Here, you can find 7 interesting and beautiful poems on Children’s Day that describe the beauty of childhood and the experiences of our childhood. 

Children’s Day Poem in English for School Children

These 7 beautiful poems on childhood and the lovely experiences of our early days will leave children with beautiful thoughts and experiences. Through these poems, they will be able to understand the importance of their early days and how those experiences can be used in shaping their future. Check poems on childhood in English below. 

1. Henry Vaughan’s ‘The Retreat’

Happy those early days! when I

Shined in my angel infancy.

Before I understood this place

Appointed for my second race,

Or taught my soul to fancy aught

But a white, celestial thought;

When yet I had not walked above

A mile or two from my first love,

And looking back, at that short space,

Could see a glimpse of His bright face;

When on some gilded cloud or flower

My gazing soul would dwell an hour,

And in those weaker glories spy

Some shadows of eternity;

Before I taught my tongue to wound

My conscience with a sinful sound,

Or had the black art to dispense

A several sin to every sense,

But felt through all this fleshly dress

Bright shoots of everlastingness.

O, how I long to travel back,

And tread again that ancient track!

That I might once more reach that plain

Where first I left my glorious train,

From whence th’ enlightened spirit sees

That shady city of palm trees.

But, ah! my soul with too much stay

Is drunk, and staggers in the way.

Some men a forward motion love;

But I by backward steps would move,

And when this dust falls to the urn,

In that state I came, return

When on some gilded cloud or flower

My gazing soul would dwell an hour,

And in those weaker glories spy

Some shadows of eternity;

Before I taught my tongue to wound

My conscience with a sinful sound,

Or had the black art to dispense

A several sin to every sense,

But felt through all this fleshly dress

Bright shoots of everlastingness

2. Philip Larkin’s ‘I Remember, I Remember’ 

Coming up England by a different line
For once, early in the cold new year,
We stopped, and, watching men with number plates
Sprint down the platform to familiar gates,
“Why, Coventry!” I exclaimed. “I was born here.”

I leant far out, and squinnied for a sign
That this was still the town that had been ‘mine’
So long, but found I wasn’t even clear
Which side was which. From where those cycle-crates
Were standing, had we annually departed

For all those family hols? . . . A whistle went:
Things moved. I sat back, staring at my boots.
‘Was that,’ my friend smiled, ‘where you “have your roots”?’
No, only where my childhood was unspent,
I wanted to retort, just where I started:

By now I’ve got the whole place clearly charted.
Our garden, first: where I did not invent
Blinding theologies of flowers and fruits,
And wasn’t spoken to by an old hat.
And here we have that splendid family

I never ran to when I got depressed,
The boys all biceps and the girls all chest,
Their comic Ford, their farm where I could be
‘Really myself’. I’ll show you, come to that,
The bracken where I never trembling sat,

Determined to go through with it; where she
Lay back, and ‘all became a burning mist’.
And, in those offices, my doggerel
Was not set up in blunt ten-point, nor read
By a distinguished cousin of the mayor,

Who didn’t call and tell my father There
Before us, had we the gift to see ahead –
‘You look as though you wished the place in Hell,’
My friend said, ‘judging from your face.’ ‘Oh well,
I suppose it’s not the place’s fault,’ I said.

‘Nothing, like something, happens anywhere.’

3. Paul. L. Kennedy’s Childhood Memories

I was happy when I was a lad.

It wasn’t all good, but it wasn’t half bad.

We played with sticks we played with stones;

we built ourselves dens that we called homes

We explored the woods, we climbed the trees

and we played with marbles on our knees.

Conkers in season we threaded with string.

If your opponent missed, your knuckles would sting.

We built trolleys with old pram wheels.

We were often too busy to go home for our meals.

We made catapults, bows and arrows and spears,

quite often resulting in painful tears.

We scrumped apples, plums and pears;

of getting caught, we had no cares

In fact, we were often caught, and our ears clipped

no smart replies – we never lipped.

During the long school summer holidays when the sun shone bright

we played outside from morning to night.

War games, tin can tommy, hide and seek,

Such fun we’d have, what havoc we’d wreak.

Raiding allotments, pinching what grew

We’d get a good hiding if our parents knew.

Round blazing open fires on logs we would sit.

In the pitch-black night our faces it lit.

We’d have singsongs and tell tales of ghosts,

of things we had done, exaggerated boasts

Now looking back, such a long time it seems

Sometimes I wonder was it all in my dreams

But then I remember all the things that I did

could only be done when I was a kid!

4. Zoe E. McCabe’s Summer days

The sun, it fades in the moonlight.

The stars, they fade in the daylight.

The cold breezes are strong in winter and spring,

And the warm, sunny days are what summer brings

The ice cream van’s song plays a tune as the children play on the sand,

The joy on their little faces as their parents put money in their small, little hands

I remember the time when my dad put me on his shoulders as we surfed in the waves,

And all the times he would put on a song and we would have our own little rave

I remember the time when I made sand castles with my friends and the joy we all had.

I remember the summer days, and not a memory of those bright, sunny days was bad.

5. Terry Wheeler’s Home Away From Home

I remember when we were little kids

and would stay at grandma and grandpa’s house all night.

We would get scolded when we talked in bed

until once again the room would grow quiet.

Just when we thought we were out of trouble

one of us would think of something funny to say.

We could hear footsteps coming down the hall.

That meant grandpa was on his way.

Now grandma and grandpa could be quite stern

but never could they be mean

Mostly it was a lot of love that came

from them; that is what we had seen

Finally, we would settle down for the night, and before we knew it

it was the next day.

We weren’t so anxious to get up

because we had talked the night away.

Grandma would yell, you kids get up,

Get out of bed it’s time for you to eat.

We could already smell the biscuits,

bacon and eggs, we knew we were in for quite a treat.

We were right because when we saw the

table set with all the goodies galore,

it only made us want to stay at grandma

and grandpa’s house more and more and more.

6. Edgar. A. Guest’s Being Brave At Night

The other night ’bout two o’clock, or maybe it was three,

An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me.

His trunk was wavin’ in the air an’  spoutin’ jets of steam

An’ he was out to eat me up, but still I didn’t scream

Or let him see that I was scared – a better thought I had,

I just escaped from where I was and crawled in bed with Dad.

One time there was a giant who was horrible to see,

He had three heads and twenty arms, an’ he came after me

And red hot fire came from his mouths and every hand was red

And he declared he’d grind my bones and make them into bread.

But I was just too smart for him, I fooled him mighty bad,

Before his hands could collar me I crawled in bed with Dad.

I ain’t scared of nothin’ that comes pesterin’ me at night.

Once I was chased by forty ghosts all shimmery an’ white.

An’ I just raced ’em round the room an’ let ’em think maybe

I’d have to stop an’ rest awhile, when they could capture me.

Then when they leapt onto my bed, Oh Gee! But they were mad

To find that I had slipped away an’ crawled in bed with Dad.

No giants, ghosts or elephants have dared to come in there

‘Coz if they did he’d beat ’em up and chase ’em to their lair.

They just hang ’round the children’s rooms

an’ snap an’ snarl an’ bite

An’ laugh if they can make ’em yell

for help with all their might.

But I don’t ever yell out loud. I’m not that sort of lad,

I slip from out the covers and I crawl in bed with Dad.

7. Maya Angelou’s Life Doesn’t Frighten Me

Shadows on the wall

Noises down the hall

Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Bad dogs barking loud

Big ghosts in a cloud

Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Mean old Mother Goose

Lions on the loose

They don’t frighten me at all

Dragons breathing flame

On my counterpane

That doesn’t frighten me at all.

I go boo

Make them shoo

I make fun

Way they run

I won’t cry

So they fly

I just smile

They go wild

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Tough guys fight

All alone at night

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Panthers in the park

Strangers in the dark

No, they don’t frighten me at all.

That new classroom where

Boys all pull my hair

(Kissy little girls

With their hair in curls)

They don’t frighten me at all.

Don’t show me frogs and snakes

And listen for my scream,

If I’m afraid at all

It’s only in my dreams.

I’ve got a magic charm

That I keep up my sleeve

I can walk the ocean floor

And never have to breathe.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Not at all

Not at all.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Through these poems, children will be able to learn about various childhood experiences of people. Not everyone’s childhood is as happy and cheerful as yours and the difficult journeys should be respected and remembered just like happy ones because the difficult or bad experiences are your best teachers. We hope these poems could inspire you to enjoy your childhood and use the experiences in a positive light to build a happy future. 

Also Read:

Children’s Day Essay in Hindi for School Students

Children’s Day Essay in English for School Students