If You Catch a Firefly, poem by Lilian Moore

IF YOU CATCH A FIREFLY
by Lilian Moore

If you catch a firefly
and keep it in a jar
You may find that
you have lost
A tiny star.

If you let it go then,
back into the night,
You may see it
once again
Star bright.

SOURCE:  “If You Catch a Firefly” appears in Lilian Moore’s collection I Feel the Same Way (New York: Atheneum, 1967), available at Amazon.com.

PHOTO: “Fireflies or lightning bugs (Photinus pyralis) light up a jar on a June evening in North Carolina as a meteor streaks across the Milky Way” by Kevin Adams, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Visit the photographer at kadamsphoto.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Lilian Moore (1909-2004) was an editor, educator, and poet who played a significant role in children’s literature during the mid-to late twentieth century. As the first editor of the newly established Scholastic’s Arrow Book Club from 1957 to 1967, Moore pioneered the program that made quality paperback books accessible and affordable for elementary school children throughout the United States. She also contributed many stories and poetry collections to the body of available children’s literature, and has been honored for her poetry as well as for several of her storybooks.

Feather Floating on the Water: Poems for Our Children, edited by Virginia Barrett

Feather Floating on the Water: Poems for Our Children was funded through an Indiegogo campaign that described the book as “a unique and culturally diverse anthology of poetry for elementary-age children by San Francisco’s finest poets. The book offers children the opportunity to know the work of poets living among them — empowering young people to understand that poetry is a vibrant art form, and one vital to our humanity.”

A labor of love, the poetry contributions, editing, design, and other aspects of the project were donated. The book features the work of over 50 poets, including the first San Francisco Poet Laureate Lawrence Ferlinghetti, current Poet Laureate Alejandro Murguia, and celebrated poet A.D. Winans, whose poem “Rain” appears in the collection. The 225-page Feather Floating on the Water: Poems for Our Chidren was donated to every elementary and middle school in San Francisco, as well as to all public library branches.

Culturally diverse and multilingual (the collection includes poems in Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, and Farsi — with English translations), the book is also illustrated throughout with black and white drawings by a range of fine artists. The universal appeal of this collection brings poetry into focus as humanity’s most heartfelt, insightful, and impactful mode of expression and inspiration.

Find Feather Floating on the Water: Poems for Our Children at Amazon.com. The book received a 2014 Acker Award for excellence in children’s literature.

ABOUT THE EDITOR: Virginia Barrett is an influential poet, editor, and arts organizer, a graduate of the University of Virginia, where she was a student of Pulitzer and Bollingen Prize-winning poet Charles Wright, a Masters graduate of the Rhode Island School of Design, and a professional teaching-artist for over 25 years. She has written many books of poetry, including I Just Wear My Wings, served as coeditor of the acclaimed anthology Occupy SF, and is author of the travel memoir Mbira Maker Blues.

The Animal Store, poem by Rachel Field

THE ANIMAL STORE
by Rachel Field

If I had a hundred dollars to spend,
Or maybe a little more,
I’d hurry as fast as my legs would go
Straight to the animal store.

I wouldn’t say, “How much for this or that?”
“What kind of a dog is he?”
I’d buy as many as rolled an eye,
Or wagged a tail at me!

I’d take the hound with the drooping ears
That sits by himself alone;
Cockers and Cairns and wobbly pups
For to be my very own.

I might buy a parrot all red and green,
And the monkey I saw before,
If I had a hundred dollars to spend,
Or maybe a little more.

SOURCE: “The Animal Store”appears in Rachel Field‘s collection from Taxis and Toadstools (Doubleday, 1926) and The Golden Book of Poetry (1947).

IMAGE: “Antique Cutout of Animals” by American School. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Rachel Field (1894-1942) was born in New York and attended Radcliffe College. Field’s novels for adults include Time Out of Mind (1935) and All This and Heaven Too (1938), which was turned into a movie starring Bette Davis and Charles Boyer. She is the author of Fear Is the Thorn (1936) as well as several poetry collections for children, including Taxis and Toadstools (1926), An Alphabet for Boys and Girls (1926), and A Circus Garland: Poems (1930). Her books for young adults include the Newbery Medal winner Hitty: Her First Hundred Years (1929), Calico Bush (1931), and God’s Pocket (1934).  Field was also a noted lyricist and playwright, penning the English lyrics for Franz Schubert’s Ave Maria included in the Disney film Fantasia. Her plays include Cinderella Married (1924), The Bad Penny (1931), and First Class Matter (1936).

April Gale, poem by Heidi Mordhorst

APRIL GALE
by Heidi Mordhorst

Oh, how the wind howls,
howls the blossoms from the boughs;

Oh how the boughs bend,
bend and willow to the ground;

Oh, how the ground wells,
wells with blossoms blown to hills;

Oh, how the hills sound,
sound a whisper pink and loud.

SOURCE: “April Gale” appears in Heidi Mordhorst’s collection Pumpkin Butterfly; Poems from the Other Side of Nature (Boyds Mills Press, 2009), available at Amazon.com.

IMAGE: “Cherry Blossoms,” original oil painting available at fengshui-paintings.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Teacher and poet Heidi Mordhorst earned a BA in American studies from Wesleyan University, an MS in education from the Bank Street College of Education, and an MA in language and literature from the Institute of Education, University of London. She has published two books of poetry for children, Squeeze: Poems from a Juicy Universe (2005) and Pumpkin Butterfly: Poems from the Other Side of Nature (2009). Mordhorst currently resides in the Washington, DC, metro area, where she works as a Reading Initiative teacher with first-graders. 

Poems by John Lennon and Lewis Carroll

I SAT BELONELY
by John Lennon

I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn’t see at all.

I’m looking up and at the sky,
to find such wonderous voice.
Puzzly, puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but I have no choice.

‘Speak up, come forth, you ravel me’,
I potty menthol shout.
‘I know you hiddy by this tree’.
But still she won’t come out.

Such sofly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.

Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it’s might

’I thought you were a lady’,
I giggle, — well I may,
To my surprise the lady,
got up — and flew away.

PHOTO: In 1964, John Lennon holds his just-released book In His Own Write while Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr read over his shoulders.

SOURCE: “I Sat Belonely” appears in the 1964 release In His Own Write by John Lennon — a collection of poetry, stories, and drawings. Much of the work was inspired by Lewis Carroll‘s nonsensical poetry in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, particularly “The Jabberwocky” (included below).

THE JABBERWOCKY
by Lewis Carroll

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Wind on the Hill, poem by A.A. Milne

WIND ON THE HILL
by A.A. Milne

No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Alan Alexander Milne (1882–1956) was an English author, best known for his books about the teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh and for his children’s poems. (Read more at wikipedia.org.)

ILLUSTRATION: “Girl with Kite” by Nancy Crandall (mixed media: acrylic on 16×20 Canvas; kite created from paper cut into triangles, yarn as string and cut bows glued to string), ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Inspired by street artist Banksy and his artwork of a girl with a balloon.

Weird-Bird, poem by Shel Silverstein

WEIRD-BIRD
by Shel Silverstein

Birds are flyin’ south for winter.
Here’s the Weird-Bird headin’ north,
Wings a-flappin’, beak a-chatterin’,
Cold head bobbin’ back ‘n’ forth.
He says, “It’s not that I like ice
Or freezin’ winds and snowy ground.
It’s just sometimes it’s kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.”
***
“Weird-Bird” appears in Shel Silverstein‘s collection Falling Up.

Leftovers, poem by Jack Prelutsky

LEFTOVERS
by Jack Prelutsky

Thanksgiving has been over
for at least a week or two,
but we’re all still eating turkey,
turkey salad, turkey stew,
 
turkey puffs and turkey pudding,
turkey patties, turkey pies,
turkey bisque and turkey burgers,
turkey fritters, turkey fries.
 
For lunch, our mother made us
turkey slices on a stick,
there’ll be turkey tarts for supper,
all this turkey makes me sick.
 
For tomorrow she’s preparing
turkey dumplings stuffed with peas,
oh I never thought I’d say this —
“Mother! No more turkey… PLEASE!”
***
Find recipe ideas for turkey leftovers at theculinarychase.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: For over 30 years, Jack Prelutsky’s inventive poems have inspired legions of children to fall in love with poetry. His award-winning books include The New Kid On The Block, The Dragons Are Singing Tonight, The Frogs Wore Red Suspenders and If Not For The Cat.  He lives in Seattle, Washington, with his wife, Carolynn. Visit him at jackprelutsky.com.

I Sat Belonely, poem by John Lennon

I SAT BELONELY
by John Lennon

I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn’t see at all.

I’m looking up and at the sky,
to find such wonderous voice.
Puzzly, puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but I have no choice.

‘Speak up, come forth, you ravel me’,
I potty menthol shout.
‘I know you hiddy by this tree’.
But still she won’t come out.

Such sofly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.

Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it’s might

 ’I thought you were a lady’,
I giggle, — well I may,
To my surprise the lady,
got up — and flew away.

Photo: In 1964, John Lennon holds his just-released book IN HIS OWN WRITE while Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr read over his shoulders.

###

“I Sat Belonely” appeared in the 1964 release IN HIS OWN WRITE byJohn Lennon — a collection of poetry, stories, and drawings. Much of the work was inspired by Lewis Carroll‘s nonsensical poetry in ALICE’S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND, particularly “The Jabberwocky” (included below).

THE JABBERWOCKY
by Lewis Carroll

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
      The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
      Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
      And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
      And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
      He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
      He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

 

Wind on the Hill, poem by A.A. Milne

WIND ON THE HILL
by A.A. Milne

No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Alan Alexander Milne (1882–1956) was an English author, best known for his books about the teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh and for his children’s poems. (Read more at wikipedia.org.)

ILLUSTRATION: “Girl with Kite” by Nancy Crandall (mixed media: acrylic on 16×20 Canvas; kite created from paper cut into triangles, yarn as string and cut bows glued to string), ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Inspired by street artist Banksy and his artwork of a girl with a balloon.