Dig, dig, dig the earth (make digging motion) Then you plant your seeds (pretend to drop seeds) A gentle rain (Flutter fingers down) And bright sunshine (Circle arms above head) Will help your flowers grow (Hold one arm parallel to ground and move other arm up behind it with fingers extended to represent a flower growing)
Fuzzy wuzzy, creepy crawly Caterpillar funny, You will be a butterfly When the days are sunny. Winging, flinging, dancing, springing Butterfly so yellow, You were once a caterpillar, Wiggly, wiggly fellow.
Shall I compare thee to a summer day? 'Cause April is the best of all the months. When the rain comes down, all I do is play. And even though I can't play outside, I will find a way not to be very bored. I can do something inside by myself, Watch television or play a boardgame. Maybe my brother can play with me? Either way I can play. After we have all that fun, fun, fun, The next few days will bring the month of May. When we wake up, we will see May flowers. The May flowers are lots of colors. The month of May is my second best month.
"'Tis like the birthday of the world, When earth was born in bloom; The light is made of many dyes, The air is all perfume: There's crimson buds, and white and blue, The very rainbow showers Have turned to blossoms where they fell, And sown the earth with flowers." - Thomas Hood
Mommy, I love you For all that you do. I'll kiss you and hug you 'Cause you love me, too. You feed me and need me To teach you to play, So smile 'cause I love you On this Mother's Day.
Mother's day activity I was given a page with this poem on it. It had a picture of my son, and his handprints on it in paint. Even six years later, I still have it hanging on my bulletin board in my home office. LOVE THIS!
Sometimes you get discouraged Because I am so small And always leave my fingerprints On furniture and walls.
But every day I'm growing - I'll be grown some day And all those tiny handprints Will surely fade away.
So here's a little handprint Just so you can recall Exactly how my fingers looked When I was very small.
Emily Dickinson MAY-FLOWER. Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss, Known by the knoll, Next to the robin In every human soul. Bold little beauty, Bedecked with thee, Nature forswears Antiquity
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee; A poet could not be but gay, In such a jocund company! I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
Summer vacation is starting today. The teachers are shouting out, "Hip, hip, hooray!" Our grumpy old principal grins ear to ear, and runs down the hall shouting, "Summer is here!" The buses come early - they're usually late. The teachers say, "Hurry up! Pack up! Don't wait!" The school bell is ringing. There's no time to chat. The whole school is emptied in one second flat. Everyone's happy. Our spirits are flying. Except for our parents. They're sulking and crying.
A Song of Flowers Sung to “Sing a Song of Sixpence”
Sing a song of flowers, flowers all around. Flowers that are growing, growing in the ground Flowers of each color make a pretty view. Red and orange and yellow. And blue and purple too.
She wore her yellow sun-bonnet, She wore her greenest gown; She turned to the south wind And curtsied up and down. She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head, And whispered to her neighbour: "Winter is dead."
IN shining groups, each stem a pearly ray, Weird flecks of light within the shadowed wood, They dwell aloof, a spotless sisterhood. No Angelus, except the wild bird's lay, Awakes these forest nuns; yet night and day Their heads are bent, as if in prayerful mood. A touch will mar their snow, and tempests rude Defile; but in the mist fresh blossoms stray From spirit-gardens just beyond our ken. Each year we seek their virgin haunts, to look Upon new loveliness, and watch again Their shy devotions near the singing brook; Then, mingling in the dizzy stir of men, Forget the vows made in that cloistered nook.
What is pink? A rose is pink By the fountain's brink. What is red? A poppy's red In its barley bed. What is blue? The sky is blue Where the clouds float through. What is white? A swan is white Sailing in the light. What is yellow? Pears are yellow, Rich and ripe and mellow. What is green? The grass is green, With small flowers between. What is violet? Clouds are violet In the summer twilight. What is orange? Why, an orange, Just an orange!
My Spring Garden Here is my little garden, Some seeds I'm going to sow. Here is my rake to rake the ground, Here is my handy hoe. Here is the big, round yellow sun; The sun warms everything. Here are the rain clouds in the sky; The birds will start to sing.
Little plants will wake up soon, And lift their sleepy heads; Little plants will grow and grow In their little, warm earth beds.
April showers bring May flowers, That is what they say. But if all the showers turned to flowers, We’d have quite a colourful day! There’d be bluebells and cockleshells, Tulips red and green, Daffodils and Chinese squill, The brightest you’ve ever seen
Planting Time
ReplyDeleteOriginal Author Unknown
Sung to: "Row, Row, Row Your Boat"
Dig, dig, dig the earth
(make digging motion)
Then you plant your seeds
(pretend to drop seeds)
A gentle rain
(Flutter fingers down)
And bright sunshine
(Circle arms above head)
Will help your flowers grow
(Hold one arm parallel to ground and move other arm up behind it with
fingers extended to represent a flower growing)
Super Mom
ReplyDeleteby Joanna Fuchs
Mom, you're a wonderful mother,
So gentle, yet so strong.
The many ways you show you care
Always make me feel I belong.
You're patient when I'm foolish;
You give guidance when I ask;
It seems you can do most anything;
You're the master of every task.
You're a dependable source of comfort;
You're my cushion when I fall.
You help in times of trouble;
You support me whenever I call.
I love you more than you know;
You have my total respect.
If I had my choice of mothers,
You'd be the one I'd select!
May by Sara Teasdale
ReplyDeleteMay's a month of happy sounds,
The hum of buzzing bees,
The chirp of little baby birds
And the song of a gentle breeze.
The grass is green.
Flower blossoms I have seen.
The days are warm.
By evening it cools.
It's time to find the garden tools.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteFuzzy Wuzzy, Creepy Crawly
ReplyDeletePoem by Lilian Schulz.
Fuzzy wuzzy, creepy crawly
Caterpillar funny,
You will be a butterfly
When the days are sunny.
Winging, flinging, dancing, springing
Butterfly so yellow,
You were once a caterpillar,
Wiggly, wiggly fellow.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteApril Showers Bring May Flowers
ReplyDeleteLeslie Paige
Shall I compare thee to a summer day?
'Cause April is the best of all the months.
When the rain comes down, all I do is play.
And even though I can't play outside,
I will find a way not to be very bored.
I can do something inside by myself,
Watch television or play a boardgame.
Maybe my brother can play with me?
Either way I can play.
After we have all that fun, fun, fun,
The next few days will bring the month of May.
When we wake up, we will see May flowers.
The May flowers are lots of colors.
The month of May is my second best month.
Jason Radel
ReplyDelete"'Tis like the birthday of the world,
When earth was born in bloom;
The light is made of many dyes,
The air is all perfume:
There's crimson buds, and white and blue,
The very rainbow showers
Have turned to blossoms where they fell,
And sown the earth with flowers."
- Thomas Hood
"The wind is tossing the lilacs,
ReplyDeleteThe new leaves laugh in the sun,
And the petals fall on the orchard wall,
But for me the spring is done.
Beneath the apple blossoms
I go a wintry way,
For love that smiled in April
Is false to me in May."
- Sara Teasdale, May
Posted by Rebecca Selfridge
Mommy I Love You
ReplyDeleteMommy, I love you
For all that you do.
I'll kiss you and hug you
'Cause you love me, too.
You feed me and need me
To teach you to play,
So smile 'cause I love you
On this Mother's Day.
Mother's day activity
ReplyDeleteI was given a page with this poem on it. It had a picture of my son, and his handprints on it in paint. Even six years later, I still have it hanging on my bulletin board in my home office. LOVE THIS!
Sometimes you get discouraged
Because I am so small
And always leave my fingerprints
On furniture and walls.
But every day I'm growing -
I'll be grown some day
And all those tiny handprints
Will surely fade away.
So here's a little handprint
Just so you can recall
Exactly how my fingers looked
When I was very small.
Emily Dickinson
ReplyDeleteMAY-FLOWER.
Pink, small, and punctual,
Aromatic, low,
Covert in April,
Candid in May,
Dear to the moss,
Known by the knoll,
Next to the robin
In every human soul.
Bold little beauty,
Bedecked with thee,
Nature forswears
Antiquity
Daffodils a poem
ReplyDeleteby William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
The Last Day of School
ReplyDeleteby Robert Pottle
Summer vacation is starting today.
The teachers are shouting out,
"Hip, hip, hooray!"
Our grumpy old principal grins ear to ear,
and runs down the hall shouting,
"Summer is here!"
The buses come early -
they're usually late.
The teachers say,
"Hurry up! Pack up! Don't wait!"
The school bell is ringing.
There's no time to chat.
The whole school is emptied
in one second flat.
Everyone's happy.
Our spirits are flying.
Except for our parents.
They're sulking and crying.
Terra Mangan
ReplyDeleteA Song of Flowers
Sung to “Sing a Song of Sixpence”
Sing a song of flowers, flowers all around.
Flowers that are growing, growing in the ground
Flowers of each color make a pretty view.
Red and orange and yellow.
And blue and purple too.
Unknown author
On Mother's Day
ReplyDeleteAileen Fisher
On Mother's Day we got up first
so full of plans we almost burst.
We started breakfast right away
as our surprise for Mother's Day.
We picked some flowers, then hurried back
to make the coffee- rather black.
We wrapped our gifts and wrote a card
and boiled eggs- a little hard.
And then we sang a serenade,
which burned the toast, I am afraid.
But Mother said, amidst our cheers,
"Oh, what a big surprise, my dears,
I've not had such a treat in years."
And she was smiling to her ears!
The Garden Seat
ReplyDeleteBy: Thomas Hardy
Its former green is blue and thin,
And it's once firm legs sink in and in;
Soon it will break down unaware.
At night when reddest flowers are black
Those who once sat thereon come back;
Quite a row of them sitting there,
Quite a row of them sitting there.
With them the seat does not break
down,
Nor winter freeze them, nor floods
drown,
For they are as light as upper air,
They are as light as upper air!
Daffodowndilly
ReplyDeleteby A.A. Milne
She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead."
Ghost-Flowers
ReplyDeleteIN shining groups, each stem a pearly ray,
Weird flecks of light within the shadowed wood,
They dwell aloof, a spotless sisterhood.
No Angelus, except the wild bird's lay,
Awakes these forest nuns; yet night and day
Their heads are bent, as if in prayerful mood.
A touch will mar their snow, and tempests rude
Defile; but in the mist fresh blossoms stray
From spirit-gardens just beyond our ken.
Each year we seek their virgin haunts, to look
Upon new loveliness, and watch again
Their shy devotions near the singing brook;
Then, mingling in the dizzy stir of men,
Forget the vows made in that cloistered nook.
By: Mary Thacher Higginson
What is Pink?
ReplyDelete~Christina Rossetti
What is pink? A rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? A poppy's red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? The sky is blue
Where the clouds float through.
What is white? A swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? Pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? The grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? Clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
May-Baskets
ReplyDeleteby Evaleen Stein
Let us take our baskets early
To the meadows green,
While the wild-flowers still are pearly
With the dewdrops' sheen.
Fill them full of blossoms rosy,
Violets and gay
Cowslips, every pretty posy
Welcoming the May.
Then our lovely loads we'll carry
Down the village street,
On each door, with laughter merry,
Hang a basket sweet.
Hey-a-day-day! It is spring now,
Lazy folks, awake!
See the pretty things we bring now
For the May-day's sake!
Weeds
ReplyDeleteby Charlotte Zolotow
I can’t understand
people who hate weeds.
Dandelions and buttercups
and clover for the bees
and maybe some Queen Anne’s lace
are all a garden needs.
My Spring Garden
ReplyDeleteHere is my little garden,
Some seeds I'm going to sow.
Here is my rake to rake the ground,
Here is my handy hoe.
Here is the big, round yellow sun;
The sun warms everything.
Here are the rain clouds in the sky;
The birds will start to sing.
Little plants will wake up soon,
And lift their sleepy heads;
Little plants will grow and grow
In their little, warm earth beds.
May-Baskets
ReplyDeleteby Evaleen Stein
Let us take our baskets early
To the meadows green,
While the wild-flowers still are pearly
With the dewdrops' sheen.
Fill them full of blossoms rosy,
Violets and gay
Cowslips, every pretty posy
Welcoming the May.
Then our lovely loads we'll carry
Down the village street,
On each door, with laughter merry,
Hang a basket sweet.
Hey-a-day-day! It is spring now,
Lazy folks, awake!
See the pretty things we bring now
For the May-day's sake!
April Showers Bring May Flowers
ReplyDeleteApril showers bring May flowers,
That is what they say.
But if all the showers turned to flowers, We’d have quite a colourful day!
There’d be bluebells and cockleshells, Tulips red and green,
Daffodils and Chinese squill,
The brightest you’ve ever seen