I Love All Shining Things
I love all shining things-
the lovely moon
The silver stars at night
gold son at noon.
A glowing rainbow in
a stormy sky
Or bright clouds hurrying
when the wind goes by.
The glinting wings of bees
and butterflies,
My purring Pussy's green
and Shining eyes.
The Rainbow
Boats sail on rivers,
And Ships sail on the seas;
But clouds that sail across the sky
Are Prettier than these.
There are bridges on the rivers,
As pretty as you please;
But the bow that brides heaven,
And overtops the tree,
And builds a road form earth to sky,
Is prettier far than these.
All Trees
With there feet in the earth
And their heads in the sky,
The tall trees watch
The clouds go by.
When the dusk sends quickly
The birds to rest,
The tall trees shelter them
Safe in a nest.
And then in the night
With the tall Trees peeping,
The moon shines down
On a world that's sleeping.
A Shiny Green Pencil
I like a green pencil
A shiny green pencil
With a rub-away pencil
And a point all sharply
I can draw all kinds of pictures
Of animals, things and people -
With a shiny, green pencil
There is't a thing I lack!
If I want a brand new spaceship
Or a secret house in a tree top
Or a friendly bear to play with
Or eleven ducks on a pond,
I,ve only to use my pencil
And there they are on the paper -
Oh, a shiny green pencil
Is a magical fairy wand!
Almighty God
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures big or small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruit in the garden,
He made them for everyone.
He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God almighty,
Who has made all things well.
The Lost Doll (Poem)
I once had a sweet little doll, dears,
The Prettiest Doll in the word;
Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,
And her hair was so charmingly curled.
But I lost my little doll, dears,
As I played in the heath one day;
And I cried for her more than a week,
But I never could find where she lay.
I found my poor Little doll, dears,
As played in the heath one day:
Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,
For her paint is all washed away.
And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears,
And her hair not the least bet curled:
Yet for old sakes' sake is she is still, dears,
The prettiest doll in the world.
