I'm a little flower pot mom put out (point to self) If you take care of me, I will sprout. (nod head, point to self) When you water me, I will grow (make sprinkling motions w/ right hand) Into a pretty flower, don't you know! (raise left hand slowly up from floor, make wide circle with hands or arms)
I'm shouting I'm singing I'm swinging through trees I'm winging sky-high With the buzzing black bees. I'm the sun I'm the moon I'm the dew on the rose. I'm a rabbit Whose habit Is twitching his nose. I'm lively I'm lovely I'm kicking my heels. I'm crying "Come dance" To the freshwater eels. I'm racing through meadows Without any coat I'm a gamboling lamb I'm a light leaping goat I'm a bud I'm a bloom I'm a dove on the wing. I'm running on rooftops And welcoming spring!
When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he: 'Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he: 'Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
Once there was a bunny. Double left fist and extend two fingers for ears. And a green, green cabbage head, Double fist on the right hand. "I think I'll have some breakfast," the little bunny said. Move bunny toward cabbage head. So he nibbled and he nibbled. Move fingers on the left hand. Then he turned around to say, "I think this is the time I should be hopping on my way!" Make hopping movements with the left hand.
Spring Will Be Pretty Dave Crawley Spring will be pretty. Just give it a week, When flowers are blooming down by the creek. Bees will be buzzing as trees start to bud, But for the moment I'm covered with mud. Snow has been melting, since winter is through, Replacing the whiteness with puddles of goo. I stepped off the sidewalk and into the ooze. Next thing I knew, I stepped out of my shoes! Mud on my ankles and mud on my clothes. I stumbled face-first and got mud up my nose. Spring will be pretty, but I must confess, The first days of spring are a muckety mess!
"The roofs are shining from the rain, The sparrows twitter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by. Yet the back yards are bare and brown With only one unchanging tree-- I could not be so sure of Spring Save that it sings in me." - Sara Teasdale, April
April's Charms by William Henry Davies When April scatters charms of primrose gold Among the copper leaves in thickets old, And singing skylarks from the meadows rise, To twinkle like black stars in sunny skies;
When I can hear the small woodpecker ring Time on a tree for all the birds that sing; And hear the pleasant cuckoo, loud and long -- The simple bird that thinks two notes a song;
When I can hear the woodland brook, that could Not drown a babe, with all his threatening mood; Upon these banks the violets make their home, And let a few small strawberry vlossoms come:
When I go forth on such a pleasant day, One breath outdoors takes all my cares away; It goes like heavy smoke, when flames take hold Of wood that's green and fill a grate with gold.
Spring Poems for Kids - Children's Spring PoetryAn April Day
by Henry W. Longfellow
When the warm sun, that brings Seed-time and harvest, has returned again, 'Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs The first flower of the plain.
I love the season well, When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell The coming-on of storms.
From the earth's loosened mould The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives; Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold, The drooping tree revives.
The softly-warbled song Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along The forest openings.
When the bright sunset fills The silver woods with light, the green slope throws Its shadows in the hollows of the hills, And wide the upland glows.
And when the eve is born, In the blue lake the sky, o'er-reaching far, Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn, And twinkles many a star.
Inverted in the tide, Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw, And the fair trees look over, side by side, And see themselves below.
Sweet April!--many a thought Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed; Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, Life's golden fruit is shed.
Up, Little Ones! by Evaleen Stein A robin redbreast, fluting there Upon the apple-bough, Is telling all the world how fair Are apple-blossoms now; The honey-dew its sweetness spills From cuckoo-cups, and all The crocuses and daffodils Are drest for festival!
Such pretty things are to be seen, Such pleasant things to do, The April earth it is so green, The April sky so blue, The path from dawn to even-song So joyous is to-day, Up, little ones! and dance along The lilac-scented way!
"I was here first," said the snowdrop: "look!" "Not before me!" sang the silver brook. "Why," cried the grass, "I've been here a week!" "So have I, dear," sighed a violet meek.
"Well," piped a bluebird, "don't leave me out! I saw the snow that lay round about." "Yes," chirped a snowbird, "that may be true; But I've seen it all the bleak winter through."
"I came betimes," sang the southwind, "I!" "After me, love!" spake the deep blue sky. "Who is it cares?" chimed the crickets gay: "Now you are here, let us hope you'll stay."
Whispered the sun, "Lo! the winter's past: What does it matter who's first or last? Sky, brooks, and flowers, and birdies that sing, All help to make up the beautiful spring."
Through the sunshine, through the shadow, down the hillside, down the meadow, little streams run bright and merry, bursting with the news they carry, singing, shouting, laughing, humming, “Easter's coming, Easter's coming!”
So sweet love seemed that April morn by Robert Seymour Bridges
So sweet love seemed that April morn, When first we kissed beside the thorn, So strangely sweet, it was not strange We thought that love could never change.
But I can tell--let truth be told-- That love will change in growing old; Though day by day is naught to see, So delicate his motions be.
And in the end 'twill come to pass Quite to forget what once he was, Nor even in fancy to recall The pleasure that was all in all.
His little spring, that sweet we found, So deep in summer floods is drowned, I wonder, bathed in joy complete, How love so young could be so sweet.
When you see upon the walk Circles newly made of chalk, And around them all the day Little boys in eager play Rolling marbles, agates fine, Banded, polished, red as wine, Marbles crystal as the dew, Each with rainbows twisted through, Marbles gay in painted clay, Flashing, twinkling in your way, When the walk has blossomed so, Surely every one must know None need wonder who has heard Robin, wren, or Peter-bird; Sure the sign as song or wing, It is spring!
When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he: “Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo!” O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he: “Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo!” O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
I'm a Little Flower Pot
ReplyDeleteOriginal Author Unknown
Sung to: "I'm a Little Teapot"
I'm a little flower pot mom put out
(point to self)
If you take care of me, I will sprout.
(nod head, point to self)
When you water me, I will grow
(make sprinkling motions w/ right hand)
Into a pretty flower, don't you know!
(raise left hand slowly up from
floor, make wide circle with hands or arms)
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteSpring
ReplyDeleteKarla Kuskin
I'm shouting
I'm singing
I'm swinging through trees
I'm winging sky-high
With the buzzing black bees.
I'm the sun
I'm the moon
I'm the dew on the rose.
I'm a rabbit
Whose habit
Is twitching his nose.
I'm lively
I'm lovely
I'm kicking my heels.
I'm crying "Come dance"
To the freshwater eels.
I'm racing through meadows
Without any coat
I'm a gamboling lamb
I'm a light leaping goat
I'm a bud
I'm a bloom
I'm a dove on the wing.
I'm running on rooftops
And welcoming spring!
~~April is National Poetry Month~~
Spring by William Shakespeare
ReplyDeleteWhen daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
A Bunny
ReplyDeleteA traditional fingerplay
Author Unknown
Once there was a bunny.
Double left fist and extend two fingers for ears.
And a green, green cabbage head,
Double fist on the right hand.
"I think I'll have some breakfast," the little bunny said.
Move bunny toward cabbage head.
So he nibbled and he nibbled.
Move fingers on the left hand.
Then he turned around to say,
"I think this is the time I should be hopping on my way!"
Make hopping movements with the left hand.
Spring Will Be Pretty
ReplyDeleteDave Crawley
Spring will be pretty. Just give it a week,
When flowers are blooming down by the creek.
Bees will be buzzing as trees start to bud,
But for the moment I'm covered with mud.
Snow has been melting, since winter is through,
Replacing the whiteness with puddles of goo.
I stepped off the sidewalk and into the ooze.
Next thing I knew, I stepped out of my shoes!
Mud on my ankles and mud on my clothes.
I stumbled face-first and got mud up my nose.
Spring will be pretty, but I must confess,
The first days of spring are a muckety mess!
Jason Radel
ReplyDelete"The roofs are shining from the rain,
The sparrows twitter as they fly,
And with a windy April grace
The little clouds go by.
Yet the back yards are bare and brown
With only one unchanging tree--
I could not be so sure of Spring
Save that it sings in me."
- Sara Teasdale, April
April's Charms by William Henry Davies
ReplyDeleteWhen April scatters charms of primrose gold
Among the copper leaves in thickets old,
And singing skylarks from the meadows rise,
To twinkle like black stars in sunny skies;
When I can hear the small woodpecker ring
Time on a tree for all the birds that sing;
And hear the pleasant cuckoo, loud and long --
The simple bird that thinks two notes a song;
When I can hear the woodland brook, that could
Not drown a babe, with all his threatening mood;
Upon these banks the violets make their home,
And let a few small strawberry vlossoms come:
When I go forth on such a pleasant day,
One breath outdoors takes all my cares away;
It goes like heavy smoke, when flames take hold
Of wood that's green and fill a grate with gold.
Posted by Rebecca Selfridge
April
ReplyDeleteApril is a rainbow month,
Of sudden springtime showers.
Bright with golden daffodils
and lots of pretty flowers.
Author is Anonymous
Spring Rain
ReplyDeleteby Marchette Chute
The storm came up so very quick
It couldn't have been quicker.
I should have brought my hat along,
I should have brought my slicker.
My hair is wet, my feet are wet,
I couldn't be much wetter.
I fell into a river once
But this is even better.
Spring Poems for Kids - Children's Spring PoetryAn April Day
ReplyDeleteby Henry W. Longfellow
When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
'Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
The first flower of the plain.
I love the season well,
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
The coming-on of storms.
From the earth's loosened mould
The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives;
Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold,
The drooping tree revives.
The softly-warbled song
Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along
The forest openings.
When the bright sunset fills
The silver woods with light, the green slope throws
Its shadows in the hollows of the hills,
And wide the upland glows.
And when the eve is born,
In the blue lake the sky, o'er-reaching far,
Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn,
And twinkles many a star.
Inverted in the tide,
Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw,
And the fair trees look over, side by side,
And see themselves below.
Sweet April!--many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Life's golden fruit is shed.
Up, Little Ones!
ReplyDeleteby Evaleen Stein
A robin redbreast, fluting there
Upon the apple-bough,
Is telling all the world how fair
Are apple-blossoms now;
The honey-dew its sweetness spills
From cuckoo-cups, and all
The crocuses and daffodils
Are drest for festival!
Such pretty things are to be seen,
Such pleasant things to do,
The April earth it is so green,
The April sky so blue,
The path from dawn to even-song
So joyous is to-day,
Up, little ones! and dance along
The lilac-scented way!
The Beautiful Spring
ReplyDeleteby George Cooper
"I was here first," said the snowdrop: "look!"
"Not before me!" sang the silver brook.
"Why," cried the grass, "I've been here a week!"
"So have I, dear," sighed a violet meek.
"Well," piped a bluebird, "don't leave me out!
I saw the snow that lay round about."
"Yes," chirped a snowbird, "that may be true;
But I've seen it all the bleak winter through."
"I came betimes," sang the southwind, "I!"
"After me, love!" spake the deep blue sky.
"Who is it cares?" chimed the crickets gay:
"Now you are here, let us hope you'll stay."
Whispered the sun, "Lo! the winter's past:
What does it matter who's first or last?
Sky, brooks, and flowers, and birdies that sing,
All help to make up the beautiful spring."
Easter's Coming
ReplyDeleteThrough the sunshine,
through the shadow,
down the hillside,
down the meadow,
little streams
run bright and merry,
bursting with the news
they carry,
singing, shouting,
laughing, humming,
“Easter's coming,
Easter's coming!”
Aileen Fisher
Chinese New Year
ReplyDeleteFirecrackers explode and bang.
Cymbals and temple bells have rang.
Dragons parade through the street.
Chinese New Year, a yearly treat.
Fireworks Explode in the skies,
A special treat for childrens eyes.
Celebrations are all we hear,
For the animal of the year.
This year, however, is the best.
Dragons are king o'er all the rest.
Sixty years passed reaching her own.
Golden dragon in on her throne.
*Ok according to wikipedia the Chinese New Year is also known as Spring Festival. Just an FYI.
So sweet love seemed that April morn by Robert Seymour Bridges
ReplyDeleteSo sweet love seemed that April morn,
When first we kissed beside the thorn,
So strangely sweet, it was not strange
We thought that love could never change.
But I can tell--let truth be told--
That love will change in growing old;
Though day by day is naught to see,
So delicate his motions be.
And in the end 'twill come to pass
Quite to forget what once he was,
Nor even in fancy to recall
The pleasure that was all in all.
His little spring, that sweet we found,
So deep in summer floods is drowned,
I wonder, bathed in joy complete,
How love so young could be so sweet.
A Sure Sign
ReplyDeleteby Evaleen Stein
When you see upon the walk
Circles newly made of chalk,
And around them all the day
Little boys in eager play
Rolling marbles, agates fine,
Banded, polished, red as wine,
Marbles crystal as the dew,
Each with rainbows twisted through,
Marbles gay in painted clay,
Flashing, twinkling in your way,
When the walk has blossomed so,
Surely every one must know
None need wonder who has heard
Robin, wren, or Peter-bird;
Sure the sign as song or wing,
It is spring!
Terra Mangan
ReplyDeleteI’m an Earth Day Helper
Tune: “Yankee Doodle”
I’m an Earth Day Helper
And I want to say.
We can care for the earth
Each and every day.
First we clean up litter,
And recycle, too!
Then we keep the air clean
And oceans nice and blue.
By: Jean Warren
When daisies pied, and violets blue,
ReplyDeleteAnd lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
“Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!” O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
“Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!” O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
by: William Shakespeare
April Rain Song
ReplyDeleteLangston Hughes
Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night-
And I love the rain.
Spring
ReplyDeleteAuthor Unknown
I love the spring.
For every day
There's something new
That's come to stay.
Another bud
Another bird
Another blade
The sun has stirred.
April Clouds
ReplyDeleteBy: Jackie Silberg and Pam Schiller
Two little clouds one April day,
(Hold both hands in fists)
West sailing across the sky.
(Move fists from left to right)
They went so fast that they bumped their heads,
(Bump fists together)
And both began to cry.
(Point to eyes)
The big round sun came out and said,
(Make circle with arms)
"Oh, never mind, my dears,
I'll send all my sunbeams down
(Wiggle fingers down like rain)
To dry your fallen tears."
At Long Last, Spring Has Arrived!
ReplyDeleteBy Colin McNaughton
At long last, spring has arrived.
“So there you are!” I said icily.
“About time too!” I said frostily.
“You’re late!” I said coldly.
“Cool it,” she said mildly.
“I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.
Have a daffodil.”
“Blooming cheek,” I said,
In the heat of the moment.
I did a birthday poem since my birthday is in april.
ReplyDeleteBirthday Blessings
Instead of counting candles,
Or tallying the years,
Contemplate your blessings now,
As your birthday nears.
Consider special people
Who love you, and who care,
And others who’ve enriched your life
Just by being there.
Think about the memories
Passing years can never mar,
Experiences great and small
That have made you who you are.
Another year is a happy gift,
So cut your cake, and say,
"Instead of counting birthdays,
I count blessings every day!"
By Joanna Fuchs