Children’s Poetry by Evan Mantyk The Society August 16, 2014 Humor, Poetry 2 Comments The Bored Knight A tired knight rode to his castle After a long day of hassle. He bowed to the land’s king, his lord, “My liege, I’m incredibly bored, I’m more like a stupid monkey Than protector of royalty I stand there at the outer gate Like moldy food that no one ate. Please, send me on some noble quest That my virtue heaven may test.” His lord replied, “Tell me good knight Did you see a man of tall height Who wore red, carried a sickle.” The knight gave his chin a tickle, And replied, “There was some fellow, Who had wanted to say hello To someone he said that he knew; I had no word to let him through And sent him home, despite his plea. The King cried: “He was sent to kill me, An assassin dressed as farmer! Without a dent in your armor, You stopped him from his evil quest, Fighting boredom, you passed the test!” The Kite Dip and drop and flip and flop, Riding high up to the top, Sail and soar and flail and flow, Through the wind that wildly blows, Holding tight onto her kite That in her hand seems to fight, The little girl could not be In any way more happy, Her lofty thoughts, like the kite, Climb up to the greatest height, Dipping, dropping, flipping, flop, Ridding, gliding, tippy top, Sailing, soaring, flailing, flow, Going, going, going, go! Gray Rocky Bay The little girl and family Walked along the gray rocky bay. The thick mist made it feel scary As the girl and her brother play. Suddenly, through the girl’s third eye, She saw darkness cover the sky; Something no one else there could spy No matter how their flesh eyes try. The girl stood still, afraid darkness Would wrap around her if she budged And suck her into its abyss; In pain and fear she would be lodged. So, she cried and her family Looked around them confusedly, Then, her dad knew the remedy; He sat cross legged, silently. He erected his palm midair, Cleared his mind and sent righteous thoughts; Light beamed into the evil’s lair, Each shred of the evil was caught, Dissolved and restored to goodness As he sat in quiet firmness; The world, at first a broken mess, Became proper like the girl’s dress. The spell was broken, the mist cleared And they happily left the bay; The righteous have nothing to fear, On the bright path, they made their way. Boy with Bat This boy could hit anything with his bat; Throw it in the air and hear “swoosh!” and “splat!” One time, he hit the ball so hard and high That it disappeared in the bright blue sky. He looked everywhere but no sign of it. “Wow, I’m awesome,” the boy had to admit And continued to play with other balls Until summer peeked and its leaves to fall, Revealing a skeletal hand clutching His toy, on its soft skin deeply scratching. “No problem,” his dad plucked it from the bush. Back to the game the two happily rushed. The boy hit the new old ball with his bat; His dad threw the ball and heard “swoosh!” and “splat!” Evan Mantyk is a poet and English teacher living in New York. Featured Image: “The Elgart Siblings” by Stone Roberts NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who harasses or disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comment or comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 2 Responses Katy August 16, 2014 I love these. Reply Reid McGrath August 19, 2014 You describe the knight’s ennui so comically in the first stanza that I sort of wish you would allow him to gabber on about his condition further. The simile, “Like moldy food that no one ate,” is choice. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.