Poems By a Little Girl | Page 7

woods out of a
tree:
How the ring was fairy
And there were things it could do for
him
Day and night:
How the river flowed green and wavy
Under
the Rainbow Bridge,
And Brunnhilda slept in a wreath of fire.

Grane watched her, standing close beside,
Grane the big white horse,

Dear Grane of her heart.
She dreamed she was far from her father,

But Siegfried was coming,
Siegfried, through the big trees,
Up
the hill,
Through the fire!
II
"Siegfried, hear us!
Give us back the ring!"
The lady with the shell,

The water-lady with the green hair,
Calling, cried "Siegfried!"

But he laughed to hear her,
Laughed in the sun
And went into the
woods laughing:
He was happy in his heart,
And he had golden hair

Till the sun loved him.
"Siegfried!"
I will call him!
"Siegfried!"

But he will not hear me.
He could talk to birds and rivers,
And he
is gone.
MOON SONG

There is a star that runs very fast,
That goes pulling the moon

Through the tops of the poplars.
It is all in silver,
The tall star:


The moon rolls goldenly along
Out of breath.
Mr. Moon, does he
make you hurry?
SUNSET
Once upon a time at evening-light
A little girl was sad.
There was a
color in the sky,
A color she knew in her dreamful heart
And
wanted to keep.
She held out her arms
Long, long,
And saw it
flow away on the wind.
When it was gone
She did not love the
moonlight
Or care for the stars.
She had seen the rose in the sky.
Sometimes I am sad
Because I have a thought
Of this little girl.
MOUSE
Little mouse in gray velvet,
Have you had a cheese-breakfast?

There are no crumbs on your coat,
Did you use a napkin?
I wonder
what you had to eat,
And who dresses you in gray velvet?
SHORT STORY
I found the gold on the hill;
I found the hid gold!
The wicked queen
Stole the gold,
Hid it under a stone
And never
told.
The selfish queen
Rolling away
In her white limousine,
Never
knew nor dreamed
That I searched all day
Till I found the gold,

The gold!
BY LAKE CHAMPLAIN
I was bare as a leaf
And I felt the wind on my shoulder.
The trees
laughed
When I picked up the sun in my fingers.
The wind was
chasing the waves,
Tangling their white curls.
"Willow trees," I said,

"O willows,

Look at your lake!
Stop laughing at a little girl


Who runs past your feet in the sand!"
SPRING SONG
I love daffodils.
I love Narcissus when he bends his head.
I can
hardly keep March and spring and Sunday and daffodils Out of my
rhyme of song.
Do you know anything about the spring
When it
comes again?
God knows about it while winter is lasting.
Flowers
bring him power in the spring,
And birds bring it, and children.
He
is sometimes sad and alone
Up there in the sky trying to keep his
worlds happy.
I bring him songs
When he is in his sadness, and
weary.
I tell him how I used to wander out
To study stars and the
moon he made,
And flowers in the dark of the wood.
I keep
reminding him about his flowers he has forgotten,
And that
snowdrops are up.
What can I say to make him listen?
"God," I say,

"Don't you care!
Nobody must be sad or sorry
In the spring-time
of flowers."
WATER
The world turns softly
Not to spill its lakes and rivers.
The water is
held in its arms
And the sky is held in the water.
What is water,

That pours silver,
And can hold the sky?
SHADY BRONN
When the clouds come deep against the sky
I sit alone in my room to
think,
To remember the fairy dreams I made,
Listening to the
rustling out of the trees.
The stories in my fairy-tale book
Come
new to me every day.
But at my farm on the hill-top
I have the wind
for a fairy,
And the shapes of things:
Shady Bronn is the name of
my little farm:
It is the name of a dream I have

Where leaves move,

And the wind rings them like little bells.
CHICKADEE

The chickadee in the appletree
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 . . .

Chick-a-dee-dee-dee . . .
THE CHAMPLAIN SANDMAN
The Sandman comes pattering across the Bay:
His hair is silver,
His
footstep soft.
The moon shines on his silver hair,
On his quick feet.

The Sandman comes searching across the Bay:
He goes to all the
houses he knows
To put sand in little girls' eyes.
That is why I go to
my sleepy bed,
And why the lake-gull leaves the moon alone.
There
are no wings to moonlight any more,
Only the Sandman's hair.
ROSE-MOSS
Little Rose-moss beside the stone,
Are you lonely in the garden?

There are no friends of you,
And the birds are gone.
Shall I pick
you?"
"Little girl up by the hollyhock,
I am not lonely.
I feel the sun
burning,
I hold light in my cup,
I have all the rain I want,
I think
things to myself that you don't know,
And I listen to the talk of
crickets.
I am not lonely,
But you may pick me
And take me to
your mother."
ABOUT MY DREAMS
Now the flowers are all folded
And the dark is going