Wally The whale 🐋

Have you ever encountered absurd children’s poetry that leaped off the page? This particular piece of absurd children’s poetry began as simple funny animal poems but became the most magnificent whale adventure story ever. This funny story for kids proves that the best children’s story time often begins where the poem ends. Prepare for the ultimate bedtime story poem experience!

The Power of Funny Animal Poems in Children’s Story Time

Before our whale adventure story continues, let’s appreciate how absurd children’s poetry like this creates magical children’s story time moments. These funny animal poems aren’t just silly stories – they’re gateways to imagination that make kids adventure tale experiences unforgettable.

Wally the Whale 

We went to sea, the sun was hot. 
Our boat was small, it bobbed a lot. 

A fish jumped up, it was so big.
We laughed and laughed.

A storm came up, the waves were high.
We closed our eyes, we did not cry.

A whale came near, it said, “Hello!”
We waved and smiled, then down we go.

Robin Kool

“Then down we go.” A more chilling finale has rarely been written. But as we now know, “down we go” was not the end. It was merely the end of the beginning. The beginning of the plumbing.

The first thing we noticed was the acoustics. They were magnificent. A deep, resonant voice echoed, “Welcome, welcome! Do wipe your feet, if you have any. The digestive process is scheduled for later, but I do like to keep the place tidy.”

It was Wally. The whale himself. And he was a fantastic host.

He had, it turned out, swallowed our boat not out of hunger, but out of a profound sense of hospitality mixed with a touch of loneliness. His previous guests, a singing and swinging cactus named Spike and a rather morose duck, had only stayed for a week before demanding to be released near a desert and a pond, respectively. He was hoping we’d stay for a fortnight, at least.

Wally’s interior was a marvel of bio-organic engineering. He gave us a tour, his voice booming from what we assumed was the ceiling.

“Over here,” he’d announce, “is the stomach acid pool. Excellent for digestion, but also for a quick dip if you fancy dissolving a little. And to your left, you’ll see my collection of ship’s figureheads. I’m a bit of a connoisseur.”

We saw them. There was a majestic eagle, a stern queen, and a surprisingly well-preserved figure of a man holding a turnip. It was all very civilized. We set up camp in what Wally called the “Recreational Bladder,” a dry, spacious cavern where he stored his favourite krill recipes and a complete set of nautical charts he could never use.

“The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”

Jacques Cousteau

“I’m a bit peckish,” I said. “A bit peckish, a bit peckish, a bit peckish,” the echo replied. “Did you hear that?” my friend asked. “Hear that,hear that, hear that?” “It’s very annoying,”I whispered. “Very annoying, very annoying, very annoying…” it whispered back.

We eventually learned to communicate in a series of elaborate mimes, which Wally found utterly hilarious, causing seismic tremors of laughter that nearly shook us into the pancreas.

On our third day, we discovered we were not alone. During a routine exploration of the lower intestine (we were bored), we stumbled upon a toothless shark named Clark. He was lounging in a shallow pool, looking terribly embarrassed.

“Don’t ask,” he mumbled, blowing a few sad bubbles. “I tried to bite Wally, but… well, no teeth. He said I could stay until I ‘found my bite.’ It’s been six months.”

Clark became our friend. We taught him to play Go Fish, which he was ironically terrible at. His story was a poignant reminder of the importance of good dental hygiene, even for cartilaginous fish. It was a classic funny animal story playing out in the most bizarre of settings.

It drifted down from Wally’s blowhole ventilation system and tickled a particularly sensitive part of his nasal passage. We were in the middle of a rousing game of charades (I was attempting “The Great Gatsby”) when it happened.

Wally’s entire body shuddered. “Oh, dear,” he boomed, his voice trembling. “I feel a… a… a…”

It was the mother of all sneezes.

With a force that could launch a rocket, we, the boat, Clark the shark, and several dozen gallons of seawater were violently expelled from Wally’s blowhole. We sailed through the air in a graceful, shimmering arc, landing with a perfect splash right-side-up in the calm sea. Clark, stunned, suddenly found his confidence and swam off, shouting, “I’m free! And I’m still toothless, but I feel great!”

We turned back to see Wally, looking slightly apologetic.

“Sorry about that!” he called out. “Bless me! Do pop round for tea next Tuesday!”

We waved, and he sank beneath the waves. Our whale adventure story was over. Or so we thought.

We returned to land as different people. We had seen things. We had lived inside a leviathan. This led to what we now call “The Peculiarities.”

· We now subconsciously echo everything we say, just once, under our breath.

· We have an irrational urge to dust our furniture with krill.

· And most bizarrely, we developed an uncanny ability to communicate with other unexpected animals. Just the other day, we successfully mediated a dispute between the duck that couldn’t quack and a very opinionated swan. It was all about property rights to a particularly juicy reed.

Our children’s story time at the local library has never been the same. We don’t read from books anymore; we just tell our story. The children are enthralled, the parents are confused, and the librarians are concerned about the damp patches we leave on the chairs.

It turns out, when a whale says “Hello,” your life becomes a perpetual, wonderful, and slightly fishy bedtime story poem. And we wouldn’t have it any other way..

If Wally tickled your funny bone, you’ll adore these other poetic oddities:

The Toothless Shark Named Clark (he smiles with his gums—adorable, honestly).

Timmy the Tiny Turtle (speed is relative; charm is absolute).

“Absurdity is the only reality.”

Frank Zappa

Why do we need absurdity? Because without it, the sea would just be wet. This funny poem reminds us that nonsense is not a distraction — it’s a compass pointing toward joy. In poetry, absurdity is the seasoning that makes the ordinary taste extraordinary. In creative writing, it’s the spark that turns a boat into a beanbag and a whale into a tea host. For little kids and tall kids alike, absurdity is permission to laugh at the impossible and embrace the ridiculous. And that is why this funny whale poem is more than words on a page. It’s a reminder that silliness is serious business, and laughter is the best anchor in any storm.

“Wally the Whale” is more than a funny whale poem. It’s a celebration of the bizarre, the whimsical, and the wonderfully illogical. In a world obsessed with meaning, Wally reminds us that sometimes, a polite whale and a bouncing boat are all the story you need.