Songs for Parents | Page 4

a funny sight!
Do you think, then, I'd grow tired of fun,
Laughing so from sun to sun?

Or, when performances are done,
Do clown-folk cry like anyone?
Independence
I like to go out in the night
When there's neither a sound nor a light,

With my hands and feet bare,
And the wind in my hair,
Not a
nurse nor a parent in sight;
But only the night, moon and me
As I dance in the dew joyfully,

Quite daring and bold
For there's no one to scold,
Because there is
no one to see.
SONGS FOR OUT OF DOORS
A Comparison
Apple blossoms look like snow,
They're different, though.
Snow
falls softly, but it brings
Noisy things:
Sleighs and bells, forts and
fights,
Cosy nights.
But apple blossoms when they go,
White and slow,
Quiet all the
orchard space,
Till the place
Hushed with falling sweetness seems

Filled with dreams.
Speculation
I wonder if God sits alone
Upon the highest mountain stone
To stir
the clouds and drop the rain,
And then to pick it up again.
I wonder if he sends the brooks
Foaming from their distant nooks,

And, sitting there in robes of gray,
Turns rivers on at break of day.

Parade
The scarlet trumpet flowers are gay
And yet they never seem to play,

They never trumpet up the dawn
Nor blow retreat across the lawn.
But oh, to-day I heard a strain,
A happy, martial, quick refrain,
As
down across the garden grass
I saw the marching flowers pass:
Gaudy phlox and flaunting rose,
Stiff and straight and on their toes,

And, blaring from the garden wall,
The trumpet flower led them all.
Flower Preferences
If I were a tiny fairy
With nothing else to do
But to wriggle into flowers
All the long day through,
I'd dance among the roses,
I'd take a stately walk,
Balancing precisely
On an Easter-lily stalk.
For play I'd choose the jonquils,
For swimming, poppy cups,
For jokes and tricks and tiny naps,
The Johnny-jump-ups!
But on some quiet evening,
I'd leave my fairy band,
And on a star-flower through the sky
I'd sail to fairyland.
Parental Advice

Who laid the egg that hatched the moon?
Was it the earth, I wonder,

Was it the sun, the clouds, or rain,
Was it night or thunder?
If I were mother to the moon
I'd spank her every day
Until she
learned to stay at home
And never run away!
Song for a Child Watching Clouds
I've watched the clouds by day and night,
Great fleecy ones all filled
with light,
Gray beasts that steal across the sky,
And little fellows
slipping by.
Sometimes they seem like sheep at play,
Sometimes when they are
dull and gray
The pale sun seems a ship to me,
Sailing through a
rolling sea;
And I've seen faces in them too,
Funny white men on the blue,

They look so many different ways,
And not one single cloudlet stays;
But on across the heavens they blow,
I often wonder where they go,

Now sometime, maybe when I die,
I, too, will wander through the
sky.
Problem
If I were a violet I'd think it a shame
To be always so simple and
modest and tame,
To be hidden away like a hermit or nun
While the
hare-brained pink roses can dance in the sun!
But consider the
naughty wild ways of the rose--
There must_ be _respectable flowers,
I suppose!
Garden Musings
Why is the lily so stately and still?
Why doesn't she dance like the
gay daffodil?
Why doesn't she blush like the rose or the pink,
Or,
like mischievous pansy, indulge in a wink?
Do you think it's because

she is holier than they,
Or did God just decide he would make her that
way?
My Garden
My garden was silly and stubborn;
I worked, but the weeds worked, too;
I dug and scraped and
scrambled--
They hustled themselves and grew;
Now Ted's garden's fine and cleanly,
He has lettuce and roses and peas--
Oh, most probably plants are like
children--
They only behave when they please!
Tracks
I wonder where the rabbits go
Who leave their tracks across the snow;

For when I follow to their den
The tracks always start out again.
Chanticleer
High and proud on the barnyard fence
Walks rooster in the morning.

He shakes his comb, he shakes his tail
And gives his daily
warning.
"Get up, you lazy boys and girls,
It's time you should be dressing!"

I wonder if he keeps a clock,
Or if he's only guessing.
Rainbow
The rainbow comes across the hill,
It shines upon the sky, until
It
frightens all the tears from rain,
And then it hides itself again.

Now when I'm very tired of play
I'll cross that rainbow bridge some
day;
And while dear nurse and father scold,
I'll reach the end--and
find the gold!
Windmill
The windmill stands up like a flower on the hill
With its petals
a-whirling--they seldom stay still--
And its funny old voice creaking
all the long day
As it scolds little breezes for running away.
Cat-Fish
The cat-fish with whiskers that lives in the brook,
Is an ugly old beast
with the wickedest look.
I suppose there were mouse-fish one time in
brook town
Till that ugly old cat-fish gulped all of them down.
Visiting
You and