On a higher plane

It seems that my posts have once again been getting rather trivial and uninformative; there have been fresh demands that I should exercise more rigour in pursuing the principal objective of Other Men's Flowers, which is of course the provision of intellectual sustenance for serious readers. "It don't stretch me like what it used to" complains a Harvard Professor of Applied Linguistics.
To help me to introduce a more challenging note a friend has sent me some children’s poems:

I saw a little girl I hate
And kicked her with my toes
She turned and smiled
And KISSED me
Then punched me on the nose

Today I saw a little worm
Wriggling on his belly
Perhaps he’d like to come inside
And see what’s on the telly

To amuse
Emus
On warm summer nights
Kiwis
Do wiwis
From spectacular heights