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Count-Down for Spring
One is the flag fluttering in the breeze,
Two are the kites careening by the trees.
Three are the worms wriggling in the ground.
Four are the robins listening for worm's sound.
Five are the daffodils wearing green and yellow.
Six are the calves, following moher's bellow.
Seven are the crocuses, bursting in the air.
Eight are the tulips, swaying everywhere.
Nine are the raindrops, dampening everything.
Ten are the children welcoming the spring.
Robert McCracken | ||||||||||||||||||||||
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Trees
Trees are the kindest thing I know,
They do no harm, they simply grow.
And spread a shade for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their boughs.
They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of.
And leave to burn on Hallowe'en,
And in the Spring new buds of green.
They are the first when day's begun,
To touch the beams of morning sun.
They are the last to hold the light,
When evening changes into night.
And when a moon floats on the sky,
They hum a drowsy lullaby.
Of sleepy children long ago . . .
Trees are the kindest things I know.
Harry Behn | ||||||||||||||||||||||
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