The wonderful words

Never let a thought shrivel and die

For want of a way to say it

For English is a wonderful game

And all of you can play it.

All that you do is match the words

To the brightest thoughts in your head

So that they come out clear and true

And handsomely groomed and fed -

For many of the loveliest things

Have never yet been said.

Words are the food and dress of thought

They give it its body and swing

And everyone's longing today to hear

Some fresh and beautiful thing ;

But only words can free a thought

From its prison behind your eyes

May be your mind is holding now

A marvellous new surprise!

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A Happy Child

Enjoy this poem My house is red - a little house A happy child am I . I laugh and play the whole day long. I hardly ever cry. I have a tree, a green, green tree, To shade me from the sun; And under it I often sit, When all my play is done.

The Swing

How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue. Oh! I think, it is the pleasantest thing, Ever a child can do! Up in the air and over the wall, Till I can see so wide. Rivers, trees, cattel and all, Over the countryside . Till look down to the garden , Down on the roof so brown. Up in the air I go flying again, Up in the air and down. -Robert Louis Stevenson...

A Moonbeam Comes

Deep in the night; When all is still, A moonbeam climbs the window-sill. Over your bed; It softly flies, To see if sleep has closed your eyes. A pinch of gold; Some fairy land, Is clasped within that moonbeam's hand. And if by chance; Your are not asleep, It comes tip-toe on gentle feet. To touch your eyes; With golden beam, And take you to the land of dreams .

M poem

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