41. Summer
Sitting outside
Under a tree
Mud pies and water
Making memories
Sitting outside
Under a tree
Mud pies and water
Making memories
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Come to the beach
Where the ocean is blue
And the little smooth waves
come running at you
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I walk around the streets at night.
I look around and see the light,
The light that gives me hope
To find my way back home.
The clouds above are gray and dark.
With sound of thunder, lighten spark.
Rain that falls to earthly ground.
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The sunshine has a pleasant way
Of shining on us all the day,
It makes the little window bright,
And fills the room with pretty light.
I imagined, though ever so brief, that I was a leaf;
And the wind blew me off my tree.
I was excited - even delighted,
Because of the wonderful sights I would see.
Awake, little crocus, spring is nigh!
Let me kiss the slumber from your eye.
Come! Dance with me upon the lawn,
The night is o'er, embrace the dawn!
A beautiful poem for spring. Love the idea of the crocus fairy dancing on the lawn and in her element embracing the dawn.
There's magic in every snowflake,
A gem of frozen light;
And who should better know than I,
A little winter sprite?
Thank you, Trish. So glad you like my poem and grateful for your comment :-)
The Wind is such a strange and amazing being –
It has no legs, yet it travels far and wide.
It soars up to the clouds, climbs mountain peaks,
Swirls across sandy deserts and sweeps over the sea side.
I jump on to the toboggan,
landing behind my friend.
We ride down the hill,
the sled not lagging an inch
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Birds all the sunny day
Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbour-like
Tent of the laurel.
Snow is falling, as quiet as a mouse;
On people and on dogs, and on our house.
A fluffy blanket now covers the street -
The cars are white, and that is neat.
I love this poem! It brings back so many memories of my childhood and my two sons growing up and the snow days off of school. They would be peeking out the window most of the night, wishing &...
Borrowed scarf, stolen carrot and mittens,
frostbitten fingers determined to finish,
eyes were a button and a bottle cap squished in.
Mothers called but no one listened -
There’s sunrise in the garden,
There’s sunrise in the hall,
There’s sunrise in the kitchen
Chasing shadows from the wall,
Love this poem and children will too, it's delightful poetry that one can sing along to.
You hear voices of nature in a rooster's call
As if saying, "Hey, wake up all."
You hear voices of nature in buzzing of bees
Cheeky Beak's a robin,
He lives beside my house.
He's redder than a berry,
And rounder than a mouse.
Such a fun loving poem. This poem painted your chirping friend beautifully.
When I’m caught out and angry, and tears start to flow,
I pack up my rucksack and quickly I go
To the huge, towering oak tree, in the field by the woods,
Where nobody says that I shouldn’t or should.
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I love these days when autumn leaves
Are falling everywhere around,
And I can tread among the sheaves,
And hear the crispy, crunchy sound.
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The tree outside stands straight and tall
And never can lie down at all;
For if it once should take a rest,
I fear for each small swinging nest;
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Over in the meadow,
In the sand, in the sun,
Lived an old mother toad
And her little toadie one.