Chickadee
Hilda Conkling
(Written at the age of six)
The chickadee in the apple tree
Talks all the time very gently.
He makes me sleepy.
I rock away to the sea-lights.
Far off I hear him talking
The way smooth bright pebbles
Drop into water . . .
Chicka'dee-dee-dee . . .
Ladybugs shaped using either handprints or hand tracing. Cut out the hands,
add black spots, antenna, eyeballs and heads.
Down in the Hollow
Aileen Fisher
Down in the hollow,
Not so far away,
I saw a little ladybug
When I went to play,
Swinging on the clover
Up in the air . . .
I wonder if the ladybug
Knew I was there.
Circus
Eleanor Farjeon
The brass band blares,
The naphtha flares,
The sawdust smells,
Showmen ring bells,
And oh! right into the circus-ring
Comes such a lovely, lovely thing,
A milk-white pony with flying tress,
And a beautiful lady,
A beautiful lady,
A beautiful lady in a pink dress!
The red-and-white clown
For joy tumbles down.
Like a pink rose
Round she goes
On her tiptoes
With the pony under-
And then, oh, wonder!
The pony his milk-white tresses droops,
And the beautiful lady,
The beautiful lady,
Flies like a bird through the paper hoops!
The red-and-white clown for joy falls dead,
Then he waggles his feet and stands on his
head,
And the little boys on the twopenny seats
Scream with laughter and suck their sweets.
The Cricket
Marjorie Barrows
And when the rain had gone away
And it was shining everywhere,
I ran out on the walk to play
And found a little bug was there.
And he was running just as fast
As any little bug could run,
Until he stopped for breath at last,
All black and shiny in the sun.
And then he chirped a song to me
And gave his wings a little tug,
And that's the way he showed that he
Was very glad to be a bug!
Song for a Little House
Christopher Morley
I'm glad our house is a little house,
Not too tall nor too wide:
I'm glad the hovering butterflies
Feel free to come inside.
Our little house is a friendly house,
It is not shy or vain;
It gossips with the talking trees
And makes friends with the rain.
And quick leaves cast a shimmer of green
Against our whited walls,
And in the phlox, the courteous bees
Are paying duty calls.
The Secret Cavern
Margaret Widdemer
Underneath the boardwalk, way, way back,
There's a splendid cavern, big and black-
If you want to get there, you must crawl
Underneath the posts and steps and all
When I've finished paddling, there I go-
None of all the other children know!
There I keep my treasures in a box-
Shells and colored glass and queer 'shaped rocks,
In a secret hiding-place I've made,
Hollowed out with clam shells and a spade,
Marked with yellow pebbles in a row-
None of all the other children know!
It's a place that makes a splendid lair,
Room for chests and weapons and one chair.
In the farthest corner, by the stones,
I shall have a flag with skulls and bones
And a lamp that casts a lurid glow-
None of all the other children know!
Some time, by and by, when I am grown,
I shall go and live there all alone;
I shall dig and paddle till it's dark,
Then go out and man my pirate bark:
I shall fill my cave with captive foe-
None of all the other children know!
The Little Rose Tree
Rachel Field
Every rose on the little tree
Is making a different face at me!
Some look surprised when I pass by,
And others droop - but they are shy.
These two whose heads together press
Tell secrets I could never guess.
Some have their heads thrown back to sing,
And all the buds are listening.
I wonder if the gardener knows,
Or if he calls each just a rose?