Posted in Poetry

Poor Little Goat

I was a goat,

Who was on the boat.

I was tied,

To be killed and fried.


I had lost my parents,

For whom it happened like me.

A man was holding me,

But I tried to become free.


They took me to a butcher,

Who was whacking meat on the furniture.

He stared at me, like I was a thief,

But stopped when checking my weight.


He chopped off my head,

Like I was a piece of bread.

This what happens to goats,

Before they became ghosts.

Written by Shishir, STD VII.

Posted in Poetry

The Trees

Oh, the tree,

They are free.

Trees are strong,

And all so long.

                            The trees give oxygen,

                           They give shade to me.

                           Some trees give you bark

                                       To cook.

                                                        They give you their wood,

                                                               To make paper.

                                                             Trees give fruit, to eat.

                                                                 Trees are living.

                                                                 They don’t walk,

                                                                  And don’t talk.

                                                                  They have roots,

                                                                    Just like our foot.

Written by Mohith, STD III. 



Posted in Poetry

The Cow

I am an animal,

But not a bird.

I give birth to a calf,

I do not give an egg.

I give milk

But I am not a camel, buffalo or a horse.

Oh! I do not give silk.

You give me grass,

I do not eat glass.

I have a tail

I do not fail.

I am a herbivore,

I am far away from carnivores.

Written by Mohith, STD III. 

Posted in Poetry

Blooming Flowers, Chirping Birds

When the sun rises,

Flowers start blooming,

And birds start chirping…me me…me me…

What lovely nature.

People get up and make coffee,

To drink and see nature.

Once I saw a kingfisher,

Sitting on the branches.

The kingfisher was the colour blue and dark blue.

What lovely nature!

India has beautiful nature.

Written by Keerthana, STD III.

Posted in Poetry


I have a little sister,

Her name is Sahana.

My sister plays the role of her favourite teacher at home.

We are all her students,

Learning alphabets.

We should not disobey her,

Yearning for her love.

Written by Suhas, STD VI. 

Posted in Poetry


Candles give light when we light it…

There are many different types of candles like magical candle…

They work when we light it

And when we blow it,

It lights automatically and candles give light.

On Christmas Christians light a candle and keep it in a church,

And candles give light.

But everyone feels sad because they have lost Jesus Christ.

But they think that Jesus returns on Christmas.

Candles give light when we light it.

Written by Keerthana, STD III.

Posted in Poetry

My Dream World

If I wanted a dream world, I would wish it was made up of only chocolate.

  Oceans of melted chocolate and waterfalls of ice-cream.

A world with buildings made up of chocolate bars.

That planet would have the floor made of chocolate cream.

The clouds would be made up of marshmallows.

Written by Srihith, STD VI. 

Posted in Poetry


Oh! Here comes our examination

No time for relaxation.

Kannada with its recitation,

Physics full of definition,

Chemistry contains equation,

Biology having classification.

Maths full of calculation,

History with its chronologisation,

Civics dealing with civilization.

I must study with concentration

To avoid frustration

And reach my destination!

Written by Shalini, STD VII. 

Posted in Poetry

My Pet Mobe

Do you know about pets?

About pets?

Pets are very special, very special.

They help us in many ways, many ways.

They are wonderful.

I like them more and more.

They make us happy and happy like my Mobe.

They guard our home, they guard our home,

They make the sound

Bow bow bow bow bow bow

When a thief comes.

Do you know about pets like my Mobe?

My genius Mobe!


Written and Drawn by Keerthana, STD III.