It pools in the garden
and trickles down the driveway
drowning up earthworms
dripping from window frames
A bike in a puddle
near a baseball in the mud
turns to today’s flood
The young one peers
through the curtains and the trees
longing for a sunny day
for riding bikes and skinning knees
An ocean is drier
than this soggy morning,
the young one ponders,
as water keeps pouring
Hey there, kiddo,
Want your galoshes,
and your raincoat, too?
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,— Joyce Kilmer
But only God can make a tree.
A short poem from a book of poems called “POEMS: Every Child Should Know” by “The What-Every-Child-Should-Know-Library”. This is a song and memory aid for children, which I remember from my youth and which I thought was still useful today.
Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
February has twenty-eight alone.
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting leap-year—that’s the time
When February’s days are twenty-nine.