Maids In May Robert Service Three maids there were in meadow bright, The eldest less then seven; Their eyes were dancing with delight, And innocent as Heaven.
Wild flowers they wound with tender glee, Their cheeks with rapture rosy; All radiant they smiled at me, When I besought a posy.
She gave me a columbine, And one a poppy brought me; The tiniest, with eyes ashine, A simple daisy sought me.
And as I went my sober way, I heard their careless laughter; Their hearts too happy with to-day To care for what comes after.
. . . . . . .
That's long ago; they're gone, all three, To walk amid the shadows; Forgotten is their lyric glee In still and sunny meadows.
For Columbine loved life too well, And went adventure fairing; And sank into the pit of hell, And passed but little caring. While Poppy was a poor man's wife, And children had a-plenty; And went, worn out with toil and strife When she was five-and-twenty.
And Daisy died while yet a child, As fragile blossoms perish, When Winter winds are harsh and wild, With none to shield and cherish.
Ah me! How fate is dark and dour To little Children of the Poor.
We built a ship upon the stairs All made of the back-bedroom chairs, And filled it full of soft pillows To go a-sailing on the billows.
We took a saw and several nails, And water in the nursery pails; And Tom said, "Let us also take An apple and a slice of cake;"-- Which was enough for Tom and me To go a-sailing on, till tea.
We sailed along for days and days, And had the very best of plays; But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, So there was no one left but me.
I can remember building ships and forts in the dining room as a child,and building treehouses (very primitive ones) and now my children do it on rainy days in May. What a good way to spend a warm rainy day. They like to sit under the canopy of their swing set and pretend too.
Everyone grumbled. The sky was grey. We had nothing to do and nothing to say. We were nearing the end of a dismal day. And then there seemed to be nothing beyond, Then Daddy fell into the pond!
And everyone's face grew merry and bright, And Timothy danced for sheer delight. "Give me the camera, quick, oh quick! He's crawling out of the duckweed!" Click!
Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee, And doubled up, shaking silently, And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft, And it sounded as if the old drake laughed. Oh, there wasn't a thing that didn't respond When Daddy fell into the pond!
MAY-FLOWER. Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss, Known by the knoll, Next to the robin In every human soul. Bold little beauty, Bedecked with thee, Nature forswears Antiquity
9 comments:
I think this short poem would be lovely with drawings for Mother's on Mother's Day in May.
When Mother Says
by Charles Barnes
When mother says, "Do this," or "that,"
Don't say, "What for?" and "Why?"
But let her hear your gentle voice
Say, "Mother dear, I'll try."
Maids In May
Robert Service
Three maids there were in meadow bright,
The eldest less then seven;
Their eyes were dancing with delight,
And innocent as Heaven.
Wild flowers they wound with tender glee,
Their cheeks with rapture rosy;
All radiant they smiled at me,
When I besought a posy.
She gave me a columbine,
And one a poppy brought me;
The tiniest, with eyes ashine,
A simple daisy sought me.
And as I went my sober way,
I heard their careless laughter;
Their hearts too happy with to-day
To care for what comes after.
. . . . . . .
That's long ago; they're gone, all three,
To walk amid the shadows;
Forgotten is their lyric glee
In still and sunny meadows.
For Columbine loved life too well,
And went adventure fairing;
And sank into the pit of hell,
And passed but little caring.
While Poppy was a poor man's wife,
And children had a-plenty;
And went, worn out with toil and strife
When she was five-and-twenty.
And Daisy died while yet a child,
As fragile blossoms perish,
When Winter winds are harsh and wild,
With none to shield and cherish.
Ah me! How fate is dark and dour
To little Children of the Poor.
A Good Play
by Robert Louis Stevenson
We built a ship upon the stairs
All made of the back-bedroom chairs,
And filled it full of soft pillows
To go a-sailing on the billows.
We took a saw and several nails,
And water in the nursery pails;
And Tom said, "Let us also take
An apple and a slice of cake;"--
Which was enough for Tom and me
To go a-sailing on, till tea.
We sailed along for days and days,
And had the very best of plays;
But Tom fell out and hurt his knee,
So there was no one left but me.
I can remember building ships and forts in the dining room as a child,and building treehouses (very primitive ones) and now my children do it on rainy days in May. What a good way to spend a warm rainy day.
They like to sit under the canopy of their swing set and pretend too.
MOTHER NATURE - Nature, the gentlest mother
BY
Emily Dickinson
Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest, --
Her admonition mild
In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.
How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon, --
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down
Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,
The most unworthy flower.
When all the children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky
With infinite affection
And infiniter care,
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.
May-Baskets
by Evaleen Stein
Let us take our baskets early
To the meadows green,
While the wild-flowers still are pearly
With the dewdrops' sheen.
Fill them full of blossoms rosy,
Violets and gay
Cowslips, every pretty posy
Welcoming the May.
Then our lovely loads we'll carry
Down the village street,
On each door, with laughter merry,
Hang a basket sweet.
Hey-a-day-day! It is spring now,
Lazy folks, awake!
See the pretty things we bring now
For the May-day's sake!
Daddy Fell Into The Pond
By Alfred Noyes
Everyone grumbled. The sky was grey.
We had nothing to do and nothing to say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day.
And then there seemed to be nothing beyond,
Then
Daddy fell into the pond!
And everyone's face grew merry and bright,
And Timothy danced for sheer delight.
"Give me the camera, quick, oh quick!
He's crawling out of the duckweed!" Click!
Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking silently,
And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft,
And it sounded as if the old drake laughed.
Oh, there wasn't a thing that didn't respond
When
Daddy fell into the pond!
May Flowers:
Did You Know?
Pink, blue, orange and white,
Even the color of the night.
Smell them, pick them, watch them grow,
May flowers are blooming you know!
The Flowers
by Robert Louis Stevenson
All the names I know from nurse:
Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,
And the Lady Hollyhock.
Fairy places, fairy things,
Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,
Tiny trees for tiny dames--
These must all be fairy names!
Tiny woods below whose boughs
Shady fairies weave a house;
Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,
Where the braver fairies climb!
Fair are grown-up people's trees,
But the fairest woods are these;
Where, if I were not so tall,
I should live for good and all.
Emily Dickinson
MAY-FLOWER.
Pink, small, and punctual,
Aromatic, low,
Covert in April,
Candid in May,
Dear to the moss,
Known by the knoll,
Next to the robin
In every human soul.
Bold little beauty,
Bedecked with thee,
Nature forswears
Antiquity
Post a Comment