Poetry
The Great Water Giant
The Great Water Giant
Has finished his bath.
He pulls the huge plug
Out of the clouds.
He roars his thunderous laugh
And a wet slippery waterfall
Spills out of a squelchy sky.
‘Look out below’ he seems to shout as the water
Splooshes, splashes, plishes, ploshes, gushes,siushes,
And soaks deep into the thirsty earth.
by Ian Souter
Jack Frost
Look out! Look out!
Jack Frost is about!|
He’s after our fingers and toes;
And all through the night,
The gay little sprite
Is working where nobody knows.
He’ll climb each tree,
So nimble is he,
His silvery powder he’ll shake.
To windows he’ll creep
And while we’re asleep
Such wonderful pictures he’ll make.
Across the grass
He’ll merrily pass,
And change all its greenness to white.
Then home he will go
And laugh ho, ho ho!
What fun I have had in the night. by C.E. Pike
Daffodowndilly
She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead."
by A.A. Milne
Tractor
The tractor rests
In the shed
Dead or asleep,
But with high
Hind wheels
Held so still
We know
It is only waiting,
Ready to leap –
Like a heavy
Brown
Grasshopper.
by Valerie Worth
Fog
The fog comes on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbour and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
by Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)
The Windmill
Behold! a giant am I!
Aloft here in my tower,
With my granite jaws I devour
The maize, and the wheat, and the rye,
And grind them into flour.
I look down over the farms;
In the fields of grain I see
The harvest that is to be,
And I fling to the air my arms,
For I know it is all for me.
I hear the sound of flails
Far off, from the threshing-floors
In barns, with their open doors,
And the wind, the wind in my sails,
Louder and louder roars.
I
The Great Water Giant
Has finished his bath.
He pulls the huge plug
Out of the clouds.
He roars his thunderous laugh
And a wet slippery waterfall
Spills out of a squelchy sky.
‘Look out below’ he seems to shout as the water
Splooshes, splashes, plishes, ploshes, gushes,siushes,
And soaks deep into the thirsty earth.
by Ian Souter
Jack Frost
Look out! Look out!
Jack Frost is about!|
He’s after our fingers and toes;
And all through the night,
The gay little sprite
Is working where nobody knows.
He’ll climb each tree,
So nimble is he,
His silvery powder he’ll shake.
To windows he’ll creep
And while we’re asleep
Such wonderful pictures he’ll make.
Across the grass
He’ll merrily pass,
And change all its greenness to white.
Then home he will go
And laugh ho, ho ho!
What fun I have had in the night. by C.E. Pike
Daffodowndilly
She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead."
by A.A. Milne
Tractor
The tractor rests
In the shed
Dead or asleep,
But with high
Hind wheels
Held so still
We know
It is only waiting,
Ready to leap –
Like a heavy
Brown
Grasshopper.
by Valerie Worth
Fog
The fog comes on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbour and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
by Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)
The Windmill
Behold! a giant am I!
Aloft here in my tower,
With my granite jaws I devour
The maize, and the wheat, and the rye,
And grind them into flour.
I look down over the farms;
In the fields of grain I see
The harvest that is to be,
And I fling to the air my arms,
For I know it is all for me.
I hear the sound of flails
Far off, from the threshing-floors
In barns, with their open doors,
And the wind, the wind in my sails,
Louder and louder roars.
I