Fireflies By Robert Fleischman (a poem for two voices)
Light Light Is the ink we use Night Night Is our parchment We’re Fireflies Fireflies flickering Flitting Flashing Fireflies Glimmering fireflies Gleaming Glowing Insect calligraphers Insect calligraphers Practicing penmanship Copying sentences Six-legged scribblers Six-legged scribblers Of vanishing messages, Fleeting graffiti Fine artists in flight Fine artists in flight Adding dabs of light Bright brush strokes Signing the June nights Signing the June nights As if they were paintings As if they were paintings We’re Flickering fireflies Fireflies flickering Fireflies. Fireflies.
This sounds great with just a little bit of practice. Have one child read the left column and another (or yourself) read the right. When words appear in both columns at the same time, say them aloud simultaneously.
At school I’ve learned a lot of things I really like to do, like running in the hallway and eating gobs of glue. I’ve learned I’m good at making pencils dangle from my nose. I’ve learned to hum and pop my gum. I practice, and it shows. I’ve learned I like to cut in line and love to cut the cheese. I’ve learned to fake a burp, a cough, and even fake a sneeze. You’d think with all this learning I’d be doing well in school, but everything I learn to do appears to break a rule.
What kind? I ate a melon its color wasn’t green. It was the biggest melon I had ever seen. Orange was not the color, and yes it was so good. It was a Watermelon! I bet you would eat one if you could.
When I was down beside the sea A wooden spade they gave to me To dig the sandy shore. My Holes were empty like a cup, In every hole the sea came up, Till it could come no more.
Jacques said Due October 5 June Poem Summer Sun by Robert Louis Stevenson Great is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his rays. Though closer still the blinds we pull To keep the shady parlour cool, Yet he will find a chink or two To slip his golden fingers through. The dusty attic spider-clad He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; And through the broken edge of tiles Into the laddered hay-loft smiles. Meantime his golden face around He bares to all the garden ground, And sheds a warm and glittering look Among the ivy's inmost nook. Above the hills, along the blue, Round the bright air with footing true, To please the child, to paint the rose, The gardener of the World, he goes.
For stately trees in rich array, For sunlight all the happy day, For blossoms radiant and rare, For skies when daylight closes, For joyous, clear, outpouring song From birds that all the green wood throng, For all things young, and bright, and fair, We praise thee, Month of Roses!
For blue, blue skies of summer calm, For fragrant odors breathing balm, For quiet, cooling shades where oft The weary head reposes, For brooklets babbling thro' the fields Where Earth her choicest treasures yields, For all things tender, sweet and soft, We love thee, Month of Roses!
This is for June, and all the summers it brings For the chiming of the church bells... that sing In songs of matrimony o'er top hats and lace 'Fore June passes torch, to July's scarlet face
And the trees in full jacket, leaves forest green The last pink of magnolia, can still yet be seen Theres a breeze in the air, that carries a scent Sweet rose and honeysuckle, in efflorescence
Nights still cast a chill, but June has its motives An evening gift for all those amorously devoted To feel the magic of love whilst under the moon Makes one thankful, there be the month of June
When water flows, and the wind blows. You can feel the summer breeze, playing with the autumn leaves. When clouds are white, and the sun is bright. You can see the grass grow tall, next to the river's water fall. When roses are red, and the weeds are dead. You can taste the gold, sweet honey, while the earth is warm and sunny. When trees are green, and they can't be seen. You can hear the church boys singing, while the morning bells are ringing. When morning turns to night, and the moon's your only light. You can smell the honeysuckle, as you stroll along and chuckle. When summer comes around, fun and mischief sure abound.
How would it be To fly and fly Like a summer bird In the rain-washed sky After the sun Had ironed it dry? How would it be To sleep in a tree On a rocking-chair branch
They call me a June Bug, But I don't come in June They really should call me a May Bug I fly all night looking for a light A little romance and then love
I'm the June Bug of another's dream Yeah, I'm the one that's on your screen I'm the one that comes in the hundreds The one you step over with your feet
I'm a June Bug, A June Bug I'm roly poly round Looking for love, Yeah, looking for love And I know it's flying around
I spend seven years in that ground And all I ever am is a Grub Of course when I climb out of that hole I wanna find me a little bug love
You want to see my buddies? Well, just keep that light burning bright We will come in the thousands And visit you all night
We come up from the ground At night we can be found We visit you in the month of May And all night we hang around
You want to know just why We don't move when you come outside? Well, that's because a Bug named Fred Told us all to pretend we died
We come up from the ground All we want is a little Bug love But I tell you that ain't easy Sometimes it's just real tough
I saw Sam the Bug the other day Flying straight for a big head light I guess he liked it quite a lot Because he is still there and bright
Poor Arnold the Bug, Well, I don't know He is stuck on someone's shoe We tried to tell him but he had listened to Fred That Bug just wouldn't move
You think you've got troubles Well, let me just tell you You don't know the half of it Til a shoe comes down on you
All we want is a little love A little bit of that Bug love stuff Although we come in the month of May They call me a June Bug
A June Bug, A June Bug I'm roly poly round Looking for love, Yeah, looking for love And I know it's flying around!
In my head I hear a humming: Summer, summer summer's coming. Soon we're going on vacation But there is a complication: Day by day the problem's growing- We don't know yet where we're going!
Mother likes the country best; That's so she can read and rest. Dad thinks resting is a bore; He's for fishing at the shore. Sailing is my brother's pick; Sailing makes my sister sick; She says swimming's much more cool, Swimming in a swimming pool. As for me, why, I don't care, I'd be happy anywhere! In my head I hear a humming: Summer, summer, summer's coming. Soon we're going on vacation But we have a complication: Day by day the problem's growing- Where oh where will we be going?
For stately trees in rich array, For sunlight all the happy day, For blossoms radiant and rare, For skies when daylight closes, For joyous, clear, outpouring song From birds that all the green wood throng, For all things young, and bright, and fair, We praise thee, Month of Roses!
For blue, blue skies of summer calm, For fragrant odors breathing balm, For quiet, cooling shades where oft The weary head reposes, For brooklets babbling thro' the fields Where Earth her choicest treasures yields, For all things tender, sweet and soft, We love thee, Month of Roses!
Sun bright melt rain river on the rise Eagle with the sparrow where the crow and raven fly Song of sixpence on the pound where minstrel kings collide Stars of morning in the train The track to what must fly
There On the stair of heaven sound and light Golden bliss wing eagles In an endless stirring flight Through the clouds of mountain peaks Formations prism grand Time the warp and space the woof Every little strand Woven on through empty space To shine illusion’s grand design
Time Sunk so solid in reason’s past design Stands like walls before us While the future never climbs That to this what was and is And so it all must be The rain will pour The wailing sound Of all those lost between The want and wish the prayer the hope The gamble on what is Look ye well to the mirror bright The news is shining This is this
O I would send you happiness And I would send you joy There is a light in fearlessness The seasons shift the story is not blue Life is ever new
The world of earth now changes garb What was is not to be To ride the raft of what there is To hold on and be free No doubt instable compounds merge Configuring the states of hue And you are what you think And you are what you do And we all fly from earth to sky Seeking many points of view
Be well be wise be happy Share what joy you may The summer season hails the sun All good things remain
"So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing, So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see; So blithe and gay the humming-bird a going From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee." - Nora Perry, In June
16 comments:
Jennifer Stevens
June Poem
Due: Oct. 5
Fireflies
By Robert Fleischman
(a poem for two voices)
Light Light
Is the ink we use
Night Night
Is our parchment
We’re
Fireflies
Fireflies flickering
Flitting
Flashing
Fireflies
Glimmering fireflies
Gleaming
Glowing
Insect calligraphers Insect calligraphers
Practicing penmanship
Copying sentences
Six-legged scribblers Six-legged scribblers
Of vanishing messages,
Fleeting graffiti
Fine artists in flight Fine artists in flight
Adding dabs of light
Bright brush strokes
Signing the June nights Signing the June nights
As if they were paintings As if they were paintings
We’re
Flickering fireflies
Fireflies flickering
Fireflies. Fireflies.
This sounds great with just a little bit of practice. Have one child read the left column and another (or yourself) read the right. When words appear in both columns at the same time, say them aloud simultaneously.
What I've Learned at School
by Robert Pottle
At school I’ve learned a lot of things
I really like to do,
like running in the hallway
and eating gobs of glue.
I’ve learned I’m good at making pencils
dangle from my nose.
I’ve learned to hum and pop my gum.
I practice, and it shows.
I’ve learned I like to cut in line
and love to cut the cheese.
I’ve learned to fake a burp, a cough,
and even fake a sneeze.
You’d think with all this learning
I’d be doing well in school,
but everything I learn to do
appears to break a rule.
Summer:
What kind?
I ate a melon its color wasn’t green.
It was the biggest melon I had ever seen.
Orange was not the color, and yes it was so good.
It was a Watermelon! I bet you would eat one if you could.
Bed in Summer
by Robert Louis Stevenson
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?
At the Seaside
By Robert Louis Stevenson
When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My Holes were empty like a cup,
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.
Jacques said
Due October 5
June Poem
Summer Sun
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.
June
by Elaine Goodale
For stately trees in rich array,
For sunlight all the happy day,
For blossoms radiant and rare,
For skies when daylight closes,
For joyous, clear, outpouring song
From birds that all the green wood throng,
For all things young, and bright, and fair,
We praise thee, Month of Roses!
For blue, blue skies of summer calm,
For fragrant odors breathing balm,
For quiet, cooling shades where oft
The weary head reposes,
For brooklets babbling thro' the fields
Where Earth her choicest treasures yields,
For all things tender, sweet and soft,
We love thee, Month of Roses!
Alison Miller
JUNE...JUNE...JUNE...JUNE
This is for June, and all the summers it brings
For the chiming of the church bells... that sing
In songs of matrimony o'er top hats and lace
'Fore June passes torch, to July's scarlet face
And the trees in full jacket, leaves forest green
The last pink of magnolia, can still yet be seen
Theres a breeze in the air, that carries a scent
Sweet rose and honeysuckle, in efflorescence
Nights still cast a chill, but June has its motives
An evening gift for all those amorously devoted
To feel the magic of love whilst under the moon
Makes one thankful, there be the month of June
Frank James Ryan, Jr
Summer
by Miles Christian Barth
When water flows, and the wind blows.
You can feel the summer breeze,
playing with the autumn leaves.
When clouds are white, and the sun is bright.
You can see the grass grow tall,
next to the river's water fall.
When roses are red, and the weeds are dead.
You can taste the gold, sweet honey,
while the earth is warm and sunny.
When trees are green, and they can't be seen.
You can hear the church boys singing,
while the morning bells are ringing.
When morning turns to night, and the moon's your only light.
You can smell the honeysuckle,
as you stroll along and chuckle.
When summer comes around,
fun and mischief sure abound.
Like a Summer Bird
By
Aileen Fisher
How would it be
To fly and fly
Like a summer bird
In the rain-washed sky
After the sun
Had ironed it dry?
How would it be
To sleep in a tree
On a rocking-chair branch
Five Little Sea Shells
Five little sea shells lying on the shore.
Swish! Went the waves, and then there were four.
Four little sea shells cozy as could be.
Swish! Went the waves, and then there were three.
Three little sea shells all pearly new.
Swish! Went the waves, and then there were two.
Two little sea shells sleeping in the sun.
Swish! Went the waves and then there was one.
One little sea shell left all alone
Whispered, "SHHHHHHHHH" as I took it home.
Author unknown
http://www.geocities.com/providersnfriends/summer/summer.html
June Bug
They call me a June Bug, But I don't come in June
They really should call me a May Bug
I fly all night looking for a light
A little romance and then love
I'm the June Bug of another's dream
Yeah, I'm the one that's on your screen
I'm the one that comes in the hundreds
The one you step over with your feet
I'm a June Bug, A June Bug
I'm roly poly round
Looking for love, Yeah, looking for love
And I know it's flying around
I spend seven years in that ground
And all I ever am is a Grub
Of course when I climb out of that hole
I wanna find me a little bug love
You want to see my buddies?
Well, just keep that light burning bright
We will come in the thousands
And visit you all night
We come up from the ground
At night we can be found
We visit you in the month of May
And all night we hang around
You want to know just why
We don't move when you come outside?
Well, that's because a Bug named Fred
Told us all to pretend we died
We come up from the ground
All we want is a little Bug love
But I tell you that ain't easy
Sometimes it's just real tough
I saw Sam the Bug the other day
Flying straight for a big head light
I guess he liked it quite a lot
Because he is still there and bright
Poor Arnold the Bug, Well, I don't know
He is stuck on someone's shoe
We tried to tell him but he had listened to Fred
That Bug just wouldn't move
You think you've got troubles
Well, let me just tell you
You don't know the half of it
Til a shoe comes down on you
All we want is a little love
A little bit of that Bug love stuff
Although we come in the month of May
They call me a June Bug
A June Bug, A June Bug
I'm roly poly round
Looking for love, Yeah, looking for love
And I know it's flying around!
Bill Simmons
Laura Tawater
June Poem
Vacation
In my head I hear a humming:
Summer, summer summer's coming.
Soon we're going on vacation
But there is a complication:
Day by day the problem's growing-
We don't know yet where we're going!
Mother likes the country best;
That's so she can read and rest.
Dad thinks resting is a bore;
He's for fishing at the shore.
Sailing is my brother's pick;
Sailing makes my sister sick;
She says swimming's much more cool,
Swimming in a swimming pool.
As for me, why, I don't care,
I'd be happy anywhere!
In my head I hear a humming:
Summer, summer, summer's coming.
Soon we're going on vacation
But we have a complication:
Day by day the problem's growing-
Where oh where will we be going?
Mary Ann Hoberman
June
by Elaine Goodale
For stately trees in rich array,
For sunlight all the happy day,
For blossoms radiant and rare,
For skies when daylight closes,
For joyous, clear, outpouring song
From birds that all the green wood throng,
For all things young, and bright, and fair,
We praise thee, Month of Roses!
For blue, blue skies of summer calm,
For fragrant odors breathing balm,
For quiet, cooling shades where oft
The weary head reposes,
For brooklets babbling thro' the fields
Where Earth her choicest treasures yields,
For all things tender, sweet and soft,
We love thee, Month of Roses!
Summer Poem
Sun bright melt rain river on the rise
Eagle with the sparrow where the crow and raven fly
Song of sixpence on the pound where minstrel kings collide
Stars of morning in the train
The track to what must fly
There
On the stair of heaven sound and light
Golden bliss wing eagles
In an endless stirring flight
Through the clouds of mountain peaks
Formations prism grand
Time the warp and space the woof
Every little strand
Woven on through empty space
To shine illusion’s grand design
Time
Sunk so solid in reason’s past design
Stands like walls before us
While the future never climbs
That to this what was and is
And so it all must be
The rain will pour
The wailing sound
Of all those lost between
The want and wish the prayer the hope
The gamble on what is
Look ye well to the mirror bright
The news is shining
This is this
O I would send you happiness
And I would send you joy
There is a light in fearlessness
The seasons shift the story is not blue
Life is ever new
The world of earth now changes garb
What was is not to be
To ride the raft of what there is
To hold on and be free
No doubt instable compounds merge
Configuring the states of hue
And you are what you think
And you are what you do
And we all fly from earth to sky
Seeking many points of view
Be well be wise be happy
Share what joy you may
The summer season hails the sun
All good things remain
Christopher Wilkinson
"So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing,
So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see;
So blithe and gay the humming-bird a going
From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee."
- Nora Perry, In June
http://www.egreenway.com/months/monjun.htm
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