Posts filed under ‘.summer’

Bed in Summer

by Robert Louis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
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?

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July 2, 2018 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

In the Summer

by Thomas Hood

In the summer when I go to bed
The sun still streaming overhead
My bed becomes so small and hot
With sheets and pillow in a knot
And then I lie and try to see
The things I’d really like to be.

I think I’d be a glossy cat
A little plump, but not too fat,
I’d never touch a bird or mouse
I’m much too busy round the house.

And then a fierce and hungry hound
The king of dogs for miles around
I’d chase the postman just for fun
To see how quickly he could run.

Perhaps I’d be a crocodile
Within the marshes of the Nile
And paddle in the river-bed
With dripping mud-caps on my head.

Or maybe next a mountain goat,
With shaggy whiskers at my throat,
Leaping streams and jumping rocks
In stripey pink and purple socks.

Or else I’d be a polar bear
And on an iceberg make my lair;
I’d keep a shop in Baffin Sound
To sell icebergs by the pound.

And then I’d be a wise old frog,
Squatting on a sunken log,
I’d teach the fishes lots of games
And how to read and write their names.

An Indian lion then I’d be
And lounge about on my settee;
I’d feed on nothing but bananas
And spend all day in my pyjamas.

I’d like to be a tall giraffe
Makings lots of people laugh;
I’d do a tap-dance in the street
With little bells upon my feet.

And then I’d be a foxy fox
Streaking through the hollyhocks;
Horse or hound would ne’er catch me
I’m master of disguise, you see.

I think I’d be a chimpanzee
With musical ability,
I’d play a silver clarinet
Or form a Monkey String Quartet.

And then a snake with scales of gold
Guarding hoards of wealth untold,
No thief would dare to steal a pin –
But friends of mine I would let in.

But then before I really know
Just what I’d be or where I’d go
My bed becomes so wide and deep
And all my thoughts are fast asleep.

(more…)

June 9, 2018 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

It is the summer’s great last heat…

It is the summer’s great last heat
It is the fall’s first chill: They meet.

Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt

September 22, 2017 at 5:25 am Leave a comment

C’est l’été !

July 15, 2017 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Summertime Rhyme

July 13, 2017 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Marjorie’s Almanac

By Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Marjorie’s Almanac
Robins in the tree-top,
Blossoms in the grass,
Green things a-growing
Everywhere you pass;
Sudden little breezes,
Showers of silver dew,
Black bough and bent twig
Budding out anew;
Pine-tree and willow-tree,
Fringed elm and larch,—
Don’t you think that May-time’s
Pleasanter than March?

Apples in the orchard
Mellowing one by one;
Strawberries upturning
Soft cheeks to the sun;

Roses faint with sweetness,
Lilies fair of face,
Drowsy scents and murmurs
Haunting every place;
Lengths of golden sunshine,
Moonlight bright as day,—
Don’t you think that summer’s
Pleasanter than May?

Roger in the corn-patch
Whistling negro songs;
**** by the hearth-side
Romping with the tongs;
Chestnuts in the ashes
Bursting through the rind;
Red leaf and gold leaf
Rustling down the wind;
Mother “doin’ peaches”
All the afternoon,—
Don’t you think that autumn’s
Pleasanter than June?

Little fairy snow-flakes
Dancing in the flue;
Old Mr. Santa Claus,
What is keeping you?
Twilight and firelight
Shadows come and go;

Merry chime of sleigh-bells
Tinkling through the snow;
Mother knitting stockings
(****’s got the ball),—
Don’t you think that winter’s
Pleasanter than all?

May 1, 2015 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

The Tale of Princess Kaguya: Nursery Rhyme

The Tale of Princess Kaguya
From The Tale of Princess Kaguya
By Isao Takahata, Japan, 2013, 137 min

(more…)

February 20, 2015 at 8:25 pm 4 comments

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