Children seem naturally drawn to poetry - it's some combination of the rhyme, rhythm, and the words themselves.
Jack PrelutskyHis blood is black and boiling hot, he gurgles ghastly groans. He'll cook you in his dinner pot, your skin, your flesh, your bones.
Jack PrelutskyThe BALLPOINT PENGUINS, black and white, Do little else but write and write. Although they've nothing much to say, They write and write it anyway.
Jack PrelutskyI would go to sketch groups and draw. I really enjoyed the subject matter, but I wasn't good at it.
Jack Prelutsky