My Poem

Young Night Thought



All night long and every night,

When my mama puts out the light,

I see the people marching by,

As plain as day, before my eye.



Armies and emperors and kings,

All carrying different kinds of things,

And marching in so grand a way,

You never saw the like by day.



So fine a show was never seen

At the circus on the green;

For every kind of beast and man

Is marching in that caravan.



At first they move a little slow,

But still the faster on they go,

And still beside them close I keep,

Until we reach the town of sleep.





                                    Robert Louis Stevenson

My Poem

Windy Nights



Whenever the moon and stars are set,

Whenever the wind is high,

All night long in the dark and wet,

A man goes riding by.

Late in the night when the fires are out,

Why does he gallop and gallop about?



Whenever the trees are crying aloud,

And ships are tossed at sea,

By, on the highway, low and loud,

By at the gallop goes he.

By at the gallop he goes, and then

By he comes back at the gallop again.




Robert Louis Stevenson