Plum (Monday Poem)

 by Tony Mirron

Don't be so glum,

plum.

Don't feel beaten.

You were made

to be eaten.

But don't you know

that deep within,

beneath your juicy flesh

and flimsy skin,

you bear a mystery,

you hold a key,

you have the making of

a whole new tree.

from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018 

Windsong (Monday Poem)

 by Judith Nicholls

I am the seed

that grew the tree

that gave the wood

to make the page

to fill the book

with poetry.

from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018 

To a Red Kite (Monday Poem)

 by Lilian Moore

 

 

Fling

yourself

upon the sky.

 

Take the string

you need.

Ride high

 

high

above the park.

Tug and buck

and lark

with the wind.

 

Touch a cloud,

red kite.

Follow the wild geese

in their flight.

 

 

 

from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018  

The Black Pebble (Monday Poem)

by James Reeves

 

There went three children down to the shore

Down to the shore and back;

There was skipping Susan and bright-eyed Sam

And little scowling Jack.

 

Susan found a white cockle shell,

The prettiest ever seen,

And Sam picked up a piece of glass

Rounded and smooth and green.

 

But Jack found only a plain black pebble

That lay by the rolling sea,

And that was all that ever he found;

So back they went all three.

 

The cockle shell they put on the table,

Thew green glass on the shelf,

But the little black pebble that Jack had found

He kept it for himself.

 

 

 

 

 from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018 

 

The Last Rose of Summer (Monday Poem)

by Thomas More


'Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
To give sigh for sigh.



from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018 

The Mockingbird's Song (Monday Poem)

Tigua song, translated by John Comfort Fillmore


Rain, people, rain!
The rain is all around us.
It is going to come pouring down,
And the summer will be fair to see,
The mockingbird has said so.



from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018 

The Shell (Monday Poem)

by John Foster


On the shelf in my bedroom stands a shell.
If I hold it close, I can smell
The salty sea.
I can hear the slap
Of the waves as they lap
The sandy shore.
I can feel once more
The tickling tide
As it gently flows between my toes.



from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018