Maine Girls Growing Up

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

My Poem!!

alivias siggy.jpg
Block city

       What are you able to build with your blocks?

        Castles and Palaces, Temples and Docks.

       Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,

       But I can be happy building at home.

      Let the sofa be mountains,the carpet be sea,

      There I'll establish a city for me:

      A kirk and a mill and a palace beside,

   And a harbour as well where my vessels may ride.

      Great is the palace with piller and wall,

      A sort of a tower on top of it all,

       And steps coming down in a orderly way  

      To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay.

      This one is sailing, and this one is moored:     
      Hark to the song of the sailors on board!

      And see on the steps of my palace, the kings

      Coming and going with presents and things!


     Now I have done with it, down let it go!

     All in a moment the town is laid low.

     Block upon block lying scattered and free,

     What is there left of my town by the sea?

     Yet as I saw it, I see it again,
     The kirk and the palace, the ships and the men,

     And as long as I live and where'er I may be, 

     I'll always remember the town by the sea.  

                         Robert Louis Stevenson   


Tuesday, March 4, 2014

My Poem

alivias siggy.jpg
The Wind   

      I saw you toss the kites on high 

        And blow the birds about the sky;

        And all around I heard you pass,

        Like ladies' skirts across the grass-

        O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
        O wind, that sings so loud a song!
        I saw the different things you did,

        But always you yourself you hid.
        I felt you push, I heard you call,

        I could not see yourself at all-
        O wind, a-blowing all day long,
        O wind, that sings so loud a song!

        O you that are so strong and cold,

        O blower, are you young or old?

        Are you a beast of field and tree,

        Or just a stronger child than me?

        O wind, a-blowing all day long,
        O wind, that sings so loud a song?


                   Robert Louis Stevenson