St. Patrick's Day is here, you see. We'll pick some shamrocks, one, two, three. We'll count the leaves and look them over, And maybe find a four-leafed clover. I'll sew green buttons on my vest, Green for St. Patrick is the best. I'll wear a green hat, very high, And dance a jig--at least I'll try!
This poem focuses on the iconic plant the shamrock.
The Dear Little Shamrock
By Andrew Cherry
There's a dear little plant that grows in Ireland. 'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it. And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile. And a tear from his eyes oft-times wet it. It grows thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland, And it's called the dear little Shamrock of Ireland. That dear little plant still grows in our land, Fresh and fair as the daughters of Erin, Whose smiles can bewitch, and whose eyes can command, In each climate they ever appear in: For they shine thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland, Just like their own dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant that springs from our soil, When its three little leaves are extended, Denotes from the stalk we together should toil, And ourselves by ourselves be befriended. And still thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland, From one root should branch, like the Shamrock of Ireland.
I found this finger play, although I am not sure what the actions are other than the kids names being called and they hold up a shamrock number
Five Green Shamrocks Original Author Unknown Five green shamrocks growing outdoors (Child's name) picked one, and that left four. Four little shamrocks, green as they can be. (Child's name) picked one and that left three. Three little shamrocks playing peek-a-boo (Child's name) picked one and that left two. Two little shamrocks nodding in the sun, (Child's name) picked one, and that left one. One little shamrock for St. Patrick's Day fun. (Child's name) picked it, and that left none.
Cut 5 flannel board shamrocks and let the children make shamrocks on a stick and place the numbers on the shamrocks for math count.
Sammy had a green hat, Sussie wore one too. Amy had green socks and bows, Tony green shoes covered his toes. But me I forgot and not even my charm, Could get me through St. Patty’s Day without a pinch on my arm.
I caught a lively leprechaun With stubble on his face. He promised loads of buried gold And led me to the place. But when I let him loose to dig, He leaped and led a chase. That lively laughing leprechaun Had left without a trace!
Wearing of the Green
By Aileen Fisher
It ought to come in April, or, better yet, in May when everything is green as green- I mean St. Patrick's Day.
With still a week of winter this wearing of the green seems rather out of season - it's rushing things, I mean.
But maybe March is better when all is done and said: St. Patrick brings a promise, a four-leaf-clover promise, a green-all-over promise of springtime just ahead!
by Andrew Cherry There's a dear little plant that grows in Ireland. 'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it. And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile. And a tear from his eyes oft-times wet it. It grows thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland, And it's called the dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant still grows in our land, Fresh and fair as the daughters of Erin, Whose smiles can bewitch, and whose eyes can command, In each climate they ever appear in: For they shine thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland, Just like their own dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant that springs from our soil, When its three little leaves are extended, Denotes from the stalk we together should toil, And ourselves by ourselves be befriended. And still thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland, From one root should branch, like the Shamrock of Ireland.
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A beautiful Dickinson poem about springtime -- both (spring and Emily) favorites of mine...
A Light Exists in Spring
~Emily Dickinson
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period --
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay --
A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
Don't Pinch
When I got on the school bus,
I was in for a surprise.
My friends all stared and pointed.
There was mischief in their eyes.
A kid who sat in front of me
reached out and pinched my knee.
My friends all started laughing,
but the joke was lost on me.
And then I got my second pinch.
I felt it on my ear.
And then I felt a third and fourth.
You guessed it--on my rear.
I asked, "Why are you pinching me?
I think it's very mean!"
They said, "Today's St. Patrick's Day
and you're not wearing green."
By :Bruce Lansky
The Signs of Spring
Birds are tweeting
And flying right now.
Flowers are growing
And seeds are blowing.
We can fly our kites
Because it’s Spring!
-Zachary Baecher
A student.
St. Patrick's Day
Author - Unknown
St. Patrick's Day is here, you see.
We'll pick some shamrocks, one, two, three.
We'll count the leaves and look them over,
And maybe find a four-leafed clover.
I'll sew green buttons on my vest,
Green for St. Patrick is the best.
I'll wear a green hat, very high,
And dance a jig--at least I'll try!
This poem focuses on the iconic plant the shamrock.
The Dear Little Shamrock
By Andrew Cherry
There's a dear little plant that grows in Ireland.
'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it.
And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile.
And a tear from his eyes oft-times wet it.
It grows thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
And it's called the dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant still grows in our land,
Fresh and fair as the daughters of Erin,
Whose smiles can bewitch, and whose eyes can command,
In each climate they ever appear in:
For they shine thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
Just like their own dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant that springs from our soil,
When its three little leaves are extended,
Denotes from the stalk we together should toil,
And ourselves by ourselves be befriended.
And still thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
From one root should branch, like the Shamrock of Ireland.
I found this finger play, although I am not sure what the actions are other than the kids names being called and they hold up a shamrock number
Five Green Shamrocks
Original Author Unknown
Five green shamrocks growing outdoors
(Child's name) picked one, and that left four.
Four little shamrocks, green as they can be.
(Child's name) picked one and that left three.
Three little shamrocks playing peek-a-boo
(Child's name) picked one and that left two.
Two little shamrocks nodding in the sun,
(Child's name) picked one, and that left one.
One little shamrock for St. Patrick's Day fun.
(Child's name) picked it, and that left none.
Cut 5 flannel board shamrocks and let the children make shamrocks on a stick and place the numbers on the shamrocks for math count.
okay, now what did I do. I have no idea where Mom came from except it is on my IM
Got it!
St. Patricks Day
Sammy had a green hat,
Sussie wore one too.
Amy had green socks and bows,
Tony green shoes covered his toes.
But me I forgot and not even my charm,
Could get me through St. Patty’s Day without a pinch on my arm.
The Lively Leprechaun
Betsy Franco
I caught a lively leprechaun
With stubble on his face.
He promised loads of buried gold
And led me to the place.
But when I let him loose to dig,
He leaped and led a chase.
That lively laughing leprechaun
Had left without a trace!
Wearing of the Green
By Aileen Fisher
It ought to come in April,
or, better yet, in May
when everything is green as green-
I mean St. Patrick's Day.
With still a week of winter
this wearing of the green
seems rather out of season -
it's rushing things, I mean.
But maybe March is better
when all is done and said:
St. Patrick brings a promise,
a four-leaf-clover promise,
a green-all-over promise
of springtime just ahead!
The Dear Little Shamrock
by Andrew Cherry
There's a dear little plant that grows in Ireland.
'Twas Saint Patrick himself sure that set it.
And the sun on his labor with pleasure did smile.
And a tear from his eyes oft-times wet it.
It grows thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
And it's called the dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant still grows in our land,
Fresh and fair as the daughters of Erin,
Whose smiles can bewitch, and whose eyes can command,
In each climate they ever appear in:
For they shine thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
Just like their own dear little Shamrock of Ireland.
That dear little plant that springs from our soil,
When its three little leaves are extended,
Denotes from the stalk we together should toil,
And ourselves by ourselves be befriended.
And still thro' the bog, thro' the brake, and the mireland,
From one root should branch, like the Shamrock of Ireland.
(Jessica Gardner)
Five Green Shamrocks
anonymous
One green shamrock, in the morning dew,
Another one sprouted,
and then there were two.
Two green shamrocks, growing beneath a tree;
Another one sprouted,
and then there were three.
Three green shamrocks, by the cottage door;
Another one sprouted,
and then there were four.
Four green shamrocks, near a beehive
Another one sprouted,
and then there were five.
Five little shamrocks, bright and emerald green,
Think of all the luck
these shamrocks will bring.
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