The leisurely days of summer may give us more opportunities to read aloud with our sons and daughters. Today’s Thoughtful Thursday presents classic poems, good for our children to know and even be able to recite. This summer, why not incorporate some poetry discussion and memorization into your reading time with your son? Or challenge him to memorize one of these poems, and memorize one yourself as well? (Do you really know all of the words in all three stanzas of the Negro National Anthem, “Lift Every Voice And Sing”?) There are a hodgepodge of poems here for a variety of age levels. Take a look, find some favorites, and enjoy.
The Arrow and the Song
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Days of the Month
Thirty days hath September,
April, June and November;
February has twenty eight alone
All the rest have thirty-one
Except in Leap Year, that’s the time
When February’s Days are twenty-nine.
Mother Goose
The Blues
When the shoe strings break
On both your shoes
And you’re in a hurry-
That’s the blues.
When you go to buy a candy bar
And you’ve lost the dime you had-
Slipped through a hole in your pocket somewhere-
That’s the blues, too, and bad!
Langston Hughes
Jabberwocky
‘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.
Lewis Carroll
Backward Bill
Backward Bill, Backward Bill,
He lives way up on Backward Hill,
Which is really a hole in the sandy ground
(But that’s a hill turned upside down).
Backward Bill’s got a backward shack
With a big front porch that’s built out back.
You walk through the window and look out the door
And the cellar is up on the very top floor.
Backward Bill he rides like the wind
Don’t know where he’s going but sees where he’s been.
His spurs they go “neigh” and his horse it goes “clang,”
And his six-gun goes “gnab,” it never goes “bang.”
Backward Bill’s got a backward pup,
They eat their supper when the sun comes up,
And he’s got a wife named Backward Lil,
“She’s my own true hate,” says Backward Bill.
Backward Bill wears his hat on his toes
And puts on his underwear over his clothes.
And come every payday he pays his boss,
And rides off a-smilin’ a-carryin’ his hoss.
Shel Silverstein
This is Just to Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
William Carlos Williams
Lift Every Voice and Sing
Lift ev’ry voice and sing,
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the list’ning skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.
Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chast’ning rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered.
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
Till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.
God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who hast by Thy might,
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land.
James Weldon Johnson
Summer means time away for GCP as well. We may not be posting as frequently over the next few weeks, but look for some exciting additions after Labor Day!!!