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Snow
By Pat Lessie I used to think stars way up high fell down as snowflakes from the sky. Now I know this is not so. Stars are stars, and snow is snow. I watch the snow come down at night. It coats the hills and trees on white. The snow will sparkle in the sun. I'll ride my sled down hills for fun and build a snowman, tall and fat, with a carrot nose, a scarf, and hat. I know the snow may not last long. It melts fast when the sun is strong. The stars will stay. The snow will go. For stars are stars, and snow is snow. |
Abraham Lincoln
By
Aileen Fisher
His lot was hard
and his future bleak -- Abraham Lincoln of Pigeon Creek. He studied law though a backwoods boy -- Abraham Lincoln of Illinois. In politics he somehow won -- Abraham Lincoln of Washington Rarely a man more loved than he -- Abraham Lincoln of history! |
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A Spike of Green
By Barbara Baker When I went out The sun was hot, It shone upon My flower pot. And there I saw A spike of green That no one else Had ever seen! On other days The things I see Are mostly old Except for me. But this green spike So new and small Had never yet Been seen at all! |
Soccer Game
by Grace Maccarone We start the game.
We're ready. We aim. We pass. We fall. They get the ball. Away they go! We're doomed! Oh no! It's in the air. Our goalie is there. We dribble. We pass. We slip on the grass. We kick. We run. We're having fun! We see a hole. We run to the goal. The ball goes in. Hooray! We win! |
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The Bridge
by Lilian Moore A bridge by day is steel and strong. It carries giant trucks that roll along above the waters of the bay. A bridge is steel and might - till night. A bridge at night is spun of light that someone tossed across the bay and someone caught and pinned down tight- till day. |
A poem for Me
by John Micklos, Jr. It was still dark when I woke up and stumbled out of bed, sleepily searching for my slippers on my way to the bathroom. Light trichled out beneath the door of the family room. I turned the doorknob quietly and peeked inside. There sat Dad at his writing desk, staring at a piece of paper, deep in thought. I went to him. "What are u doing?" I asked. "Writing a poem," he said "For ypu." He took me in his lap. "May I read it?" I asked, peeking at the paper. "Not yet," he said, lifting me back down. "It's not quite dome yet." But now it is. |
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Rhyme About
Crows and Reavens
One for sadness, Two for mirth; Three for marriage, Four for birth; Five for laughing, Six for crying; Seven for sickness, Eight for dying; Nine for silver, Ten for gold; Eleven for a secret that will never be told. |
One for sadness,
Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for silver, Six for gold, Seven for a secret That has never been told. by Alvin Schwartz |
