Snow Scene

By Georgia B. Adams

The snow is falling softly now On every naked branch and bough; Like lace, the flakes gently descend. See how the roads that twist and bend Have almost lost identity Beneath this sparling majesty; The everlasting hills beyond Their snow-white ermine capes have donned; The mountains, regal in repose, Release me from my daily woes; On every naked branch and bough, The snow is falling softly now.

Very Early Spring

By Katherine Mansfield

The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky--
So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold.
Now the sun walks in the forest,
He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;
They shiver, and wake from slumber.
Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls.
Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears....
A wind dances over the fields.
Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,
Yet the little blue lakes tremble
And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.

Bed In Summer Poem

In winter I get up at night,
And dress by yellow candle light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day,

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown up people's feet
Still going past me in the street,

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

by Robert Louis Stevenson

Merry Autumn Days
Tis pleasant on a fine spring morn To see the buds expand,. ‘Tis pleasant in the summer time To see the fruitful land; ‘Tis pleasant on a winter’s night To sit around the blaze, But what are joys like these, my boys, To merry autumn days! We hail the merry Autumn days, When leaves are turning red; Because they’re far more beautiful Than anyone has said, We hail the merry harvest time, The gayest of the year; The time of rich and bounteous crops, Rejoicing and good cheer.

By Charles Dickens