Rain Song

It isn't raining rain for me~~~It's raining daffodils;~~~In every dimpled drop I see~~~Wild flowers on the hills.~~~The clouds of gray engulf the day~~~And overwhelm the town; ~~~It isn't raining rain to me,~~~It's raining roses down.~~~~~~It isn't raining rain to me,~~~But fields of clover bloom,~~~Where any buccaneering bee~~~Can find a bed and room.~~~A health unto the happy,~~~A fig for him who frets!~~~It isn't raining rain to me,~~~It's raining violets.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Robert Loveman Even though it's only the middle of March today the temp was in the 70's and I felt that this poem was appropriate. I can't wait to see the daffodils, the roses and the clover blooming!!! And to see everything green again instead of brown. O Spring, come quickly.

Poems for the New Year

January brings the snow~Makes our feet and fingers glow.~~~February brings the rain~Thaws the frozen lake again.~~~March brings breezes loud and shrill~Stirs the dancing daffodil.~~~April brings the primrose sweet,~Scatters daisies at our feet.~~~ May brings flocks of pretty lambs~Skipping by their fleecy dams.~~~June brings tulips, lilies, roses~Fills the children's hands with posies.~~~Hot July brings cooling showers, ~Apricots, and gillyflowers.~~~August brings the sheaves of corn,~Then the harvest home is borne.~~~Warm September brings the fruit;~Sportsmaen then begin to shoot.~Fresh October brings the pheasants;~Then to gather nuts is pleasant.~~~Dull November brings the blast;~Then the leaves are whirling fast.~~~Chill December brings the sleet,~Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.~~~Sara Coleridge~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Spring is showery, flowery,bowery.~~~Summer: hoppy,choppy, poppy.~~~Autumn: wheezy, sneezy, freezy.~~~Winter: sloppy, drippy, nippy.~~~~~~Anonymous~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Last night, while we were fast asleep,~The old year went away.~It can't come back again because~A new one's come to stay.~~~~~~~Rachael Field

The Gift of the Magi

This is one of my favorite Christmas stories.~ It is too long to quote directly here but this is the whole idea:~~~~~~Della sold her hair to buy Jim a chain for his watch.~Jim sold his watch to buy her combs for her hair.~~~~~~The Magi, as you know, were wise men-wonderfully wise men-who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger.~They invented the art of giving Christmas presents.~Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication.~And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house.~But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest.~O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest.~Everywhere they are wisest.~They are the magi.~~~~~~O. Henry

The Innkeeper's Lament

"Oh, if only I had known!"~said the keeper of the inn.~"But no hint to me was shown.~And I didn't let them in.~~~~~~"Yes, a star gleamed overhead,~But I couldn't read the skies,~And I'd given every bed ~To the very rich and wise.~~~~~~"And she was so poorly clad,~And he hadn't much to say!~But no room for them I had,~So I ordered them away.~~~~~~She seemed tired, and it was late~ And they begged so hard, that I ,~Feeling sorry for her state,~In the stable let them lie.~~~~~~"Had I turned some rich man out~Just to make a place for them,~'Twould have killed, beyond a doubt,~All my trade at Bethlehem.~~~~~~"Then there came the wise men three~To the stable, with the morn,~Who announced they'd come to see~The great King who had been born.~~~~~~"And they brought Him gifts of myrrh,~Costly frankincense and gold,~And a great light shone on her ~In the stable, bleak and cold.~~~~~~"All my patrons now are dead ~And forgotten, but today~All the world to peace is led~By the ones I sent away.~"It was my unlucky fate~To be born that inn to own,~Against Christ I shut my gate - Oh, if only I had known!"

A Thanksgiving Memory

One of my favorite memories of Thanksgiving is when I was in grade school and we would color and cut out figures of pilgrim children. I always think back to that every year. Here is one of my favorite Thanksgiving songs.

Come, ye thankful people, come~~~Raise the song of harvest home: ~~~All is safely gathered in,,~~~Ere the winter storms begin; ~~~God, our Maker, doth provide~~~All our wants to be supplied;~~~Come to God's own temple, come;~~~Raise the song of harvest home. ~~~
Henry Alford~~~~~~There is a line in this verse that describe what is happening now in our country.
And it's not a good thing, (but we have no choice in the matter.)

Hallowe'en

Tonight is the night ~ when dead leaves fly ~ Like witches on switches  ~ Across the sky. ~ When elf and sprite ~ Flit through the night  ~ On a moony sheen. ~~~~~Tonight is the night ~ When leaves make a sound  ~ LIke a gnome in his home ~ Under the ground. ~ When spooks and trolls ~ Creep out of holes ~ Mossy and green.~~~~~Tonight is the night ~ When pumpkins stare ~ through sheaves and leaves ~ Everywhere. ~ When ghoul and ghost ~ And goblin host ~ Dance round their queen. ~
It's Hallowee'en.                                                                                        
                                                                                                               ~Harry Behn

Bed in Summer

If I recall - I have posted this poem before.  But it is one of my favorites so I'm going to post it again.
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In winter I get up at night~~~And dress by yellow candlelight.~~~In summer quite the other way,~~~
I have to go to bed by day.~~~~~~~I have to go to bed and see~~~The birds still hopping on the tree.~~~Or hear the grown-up people's feet~~~Still going past me in the street.~~~~~~And does it not seem hard to you~~~~When all the sky is clear and blue.~~~And I should like so much to play~~~To have to go to bed by day?~~~~~~Robert Louis Stevenson