Poem for 8 year old boy

At that age we had to learn chunks of poetry by heart to recite to the headmistress on Friday. ,one example being part (surely not all of it ?) of Horatius by Lord Macauley. I do not recommend... but there will be English Teachers a plenty on here to help !

The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes was always a childhood favourite of mine.

“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door”. Etc.

And John Masefield’s “Cargoes”. Everyone knows that one I’m sure.

I wandered lonely as a cloud is my favourite poem ever. X

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare, DGS 8 loves it as did I as a child.

At that age I remember we read The Song of Hiawatha, by Longfellow, at school.
It's extremely long and we only learnt the first part but I do remember enjoying it.

Meg Merrilies by Keats was another favourite.

A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stephenson - lots of choice there

Poems by A A Milne

Oh Greyduster, the Highwayman was, and still is, a favourite of mine and it was the introduction to my passion for poetry. My teacher in junior school was an elderly lady called Miss Brown and she would read it to us with such passion and intonating rhythm so much so that one day her long string of pearls broke and scattered all over the classroom floor.

I loved the poems in Winnie the Pooh and Alice in Wonderland. I also recommend the Child’s Garden of Verses.

Poems that tell a story are favourite.

Yes, it goes like this "McCaverty, McCaverty, there's no cat like McCaverty......" I loved that poem when I was a youngster. Walter de la Mere is a great poet so have a look for some of his works.

Here’s a fab poem it’s called ‘Gran can you rap?’ By Jack Ousbey. If you can’t find it online let me know and I will type it out for you.

I intend getting my 2 grandsons reading it with me when they come for the day. It moves at a great pace, is fun and has lots of rhyming words.

Maveric Prowles
Had Rumbling Bowels
That thundered in the night.
It shook the bedrooms all around
And gave the folks a fright.
The doctor called;
He was appalled
When through his stethoscope
He heard the sound of a baying hound,
And the acrid smell of smoke.
Was there a cure?
'The higher the fewer'
The learned doctor said,
Then turned poor Maveric inside out
And stood him on his head.
'Just as I thought
You've been and caught
An Asiatic flu -
You musn't go near dogs I fear
Unless they come near you.'
Poor Maveric cried.
He went cross-eyed,
His legs went green and blue.
The doctor hit him with a club
And charged him one and two.
And so my friend
This is the end,
A warning to the few:
Stay clear of doctors to the end
Or they'll get rid of you.

Just found it!

'Gran Can You Rap?' by Jack Ousbey

Gran…Can you Rap?
Gran was in her chair she was taking a nap
When I tapped her on the shoulder to see if she could rap.
Gran can you rap? Can you rap? Can you Gran?
And she opened one eye and she said to me, Man,
I'm the best rapping Gran this world's ever seen
I'm a tip-top, slip-slap, rap-rap queen.

And she rose from the chair in the corner of the room
And she started to rap with a bim-bam-boom,
And she rolled up her eyes and she rolled round her head
And as she rolled by this is what she said,
I'm the best rapping gran this world's ever seen
I'm a nip-nap, yip-yap, rap-rap queen.

Then she rapped past my Dad and she rapped past my mother,
She rapped past me and my little baby brother.
She rapped her arms narrow she rapped her arms wide,
She rapped through the door and she rapped outside.
She's the best rapping Gran this world's ever seen
She's a drip-drop, trip-trap, rap-rap queen.

She rapped down the garden she rapped down the street,
The neighbours all cheered and they tapped their feet.
She rapped through the traffic lights as they turned red
As she rapped round the corner this is what she said,
I'm the best rapping Gran this world's ever seen
I'm a flip-flop, hip-hop, rap-rap queen.

She rapped down the lane she rapped up the hill,
And as she disappeared she was rapping still.
I could hear Gran's voice saying, Listen Man,
Listen to the rapping of the rap-rap Gran.
I'm the best rapping Gran this world's ever seen
I'm a -
tip-top, slip-slap,
nip-nap, yip-yap,
hip-hop, trip-trap,
touch yer cap,
take a nap,
happy, happy, happy, happy,
rap-rap-queen.

Macavity comes from TS Eliot’s Book of Practical Cats. Lots of good ones in there, with the strong rhythm that children respond to. Another good one is Skimbleshanks, the Railway Cat.

Edward Lear, The Jumblies, The Owl and the Pussycat and other poems.

I used to love “Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen”, by William Allingham.

My grandmother used to read 'The Picture' by Walter de la Mare to me when I was about eight or nine. Grandpa was in the merchant navy so it fed my imagination.

Five Eyes was another Walter de la Mare favourite.

Oh yes!!
The Jumblies.

Far and few, and far and few,1 is the land where the Jumblies live.
Their heads are green and their hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve.

When I was eight, my mother gave me two poetry books, A Child’s Garland and For Your Delight. I still have them, battered and ancient, but treasured. I am so grateful to her for my lifelong love of poetry. They didn’t talk down to children, but contained Shakespeare and other great poets. Neither is available now, of course.

I still have my battered copy of The Journey Begins, an anthology for children published in 1953

I read it to my children and grandchildren. They all had their favourites.

I had an aunt who always bought me beautifully illustrated poetry books.

She bought me a budgie, too!

Please Mrs Butler by Allan Ahlberg

Please Mrs Butler
This boy Derek Drew
Keeps copying my work, Miss.
What shall I do?

Go and sit in the hall, dear.
Go and sit in the sink.
Take your books on the roof, my lamb.
Do whatever you think.

Please Mrs Butler
This boy Derek Drew
Keeps taking my rubber, Miss.
What shall I do?

Keep it in your hand, dear.
Hide it up your vest.
Swallow it if you like, my love.
Do what you think is best.

Please Mrs Butler
This boy Derek Drew
Keeps calling me rude names, miss.
What shall I do?

Lock yourself in the cupboard, dear.
Run away to sea.
Do whatever you can, my flower.
But don’t ask me.

From Collected Poems.

What a lovely thread! A childhood isn't complete without poetry. The classics are best but there are no doubt some more modern (rude/bodily functions) ones that an 8 year old boy might also enjoy!
I used to love T S Eliot's cat poems too.

Charles Causley has some excellent poems too. This one is called Innocents Song and it's creepy.
Who's that knocking on the window,
Who's that standing at the door,
What are all those presents
Laying on the kitchen floor?

Who is the smiling stranger
With hair as white as gin,
What is he doing with the children
And who could have let him in?

Why has he rubies on his fingers,
A cold, cold crown on his head,
Why, when he caws his carol,
Does the salty snow run red?

Why does he ferry my fireside
As a spider on a thread,
His fingers made of fuses
And his tongue of gingerbread?

Why does the world before him
Melt in a million suns,
Why do his yellow, yearning eyes
Burn like saffron buns?

Watch where he comes walking
Out of the Christmas flame,
Dancing, double-talki ng:

Herod is his name.
But The highwayman is great, as is The Listener. Lots of modern poets too

Choosing child appropriate (and child sized) excerpts can introduce your GS to serious poetry without overwhelming or boring him. In later years, he will recognize the poems he loved and learn to appreciate them even more as an adult.

Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is a long narrative poem about early Native American folklore and the brave warrior, Hiawatha (here is an excerpt from the section called "Hiawatha's Childhood")

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon,
There the wrinkled old Nokomis
Nursed the little Hiawatha,
Rocked him in his linden cradle,
Bedded soft in moss and rushes,
Safely bound with reindeer sinews;
Stilled his fretful wail by saying,
"Hush! the Naked Bear will hear thee!"
Lulled him into slumber, singing,
"Ewa-yea! my little owlet!
Who is this, that lights the wigwam?
With his great eyes lights the wigwam?
Ewa-yea! my little owlet!"
Many things Nokomis taught him
Of the stars that shine in heaven;
Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet,
Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses;
Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,
Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs,
Flaring far away to northward
In the frosty nights of Winter

Others:
Jabberwocky by Lewis Carol
The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert Service
Casey at the Bat by E.L. Thayer
The Children's Hour by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Happpy learning!

I used to read to my sons at bedtime from a Penguin book of verse for children, I don't think it exists now, but there are many comparable books available. Love reading 4 kids is a good site to consult. Children who loved 'We're going on a bear hunt' when they were little, might enjoy the poems Michael Rosen has written for young readers.