National Poetry Day: A Ning Nang Nong Celebration
Celebrate a celebrated poet who celebrated an extraordinary use of words
Celebrate a celebrated poet who celebrated an extraordinary use of words
by Jez Alborough Smiling is infectious,You catch it like the flu.When someone smiled at me today,I started smiling too. I passed around the corner,And someone saw my grin.When he smiled, I realized,I’d passed it on to him. I thought about that smile,Then I realized its worth.A single smile, just like mine,Could travel round the earth….
Daisy Time – by Marjorie Pickthall See, the grass is full of starsFallen in their brightness. Hearts they have of shining gold,Rays of shining whiteness. Buttercups have honeyed hearts,Bees they love the clover,But I love the daisies’ danceAll the meadow over Blow, O blow, you happy winds,Singing summer’s praises. Up the field and down the…
Christmas Poem written by Jack Prelutsky The Turkey shot out of the ovenand rocketed into the air,it knocked every plate off the table,and partly demolished a chair. It ricocheted into a cornerAnd burst with deafening boom,Then splattered all over the kitchen,Completely obscuring the room. It stuck to the walls and the windows,It totally coated the…
In Flanders Fields (John McCrae; 1872 – 1918) In Flanders fields, the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we…
Spooky FunAuthor Unknown On Halloween night, with the moon up high,Witches and werewolves go flying by,Zombies and Mummies begin to cawl,It’s the spookiest night, the best of them all! Ghosts in sheets go “Boo!” in the dark,Vampires hiss while dogs start to bark,Jack-o-lanterns grin with an eerie smile,As they light up the night, mile by…
Harvest Moon by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanesAnd roofs of villages, on woodland crestsAnd their aerial neighborhoods of nestsDeserted, on the curtained window-panesOf rooms where children sleep, on country lanesAnd harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests! Gone are the birds that were our summer guests,With the last sheaves return the…