Poems for Spring
This post may contain affiliate links, which means I make a small commission at no extra cost to you.
See my full disclosure here.
In preparation for the spring term of our small, Charlotte Mason homeschool co-op, I went looking for some good “springtime” poems. My favorites are listed below.
Older Brother and his peers will memorize one of these poems–or two, if they’re short–but I hope to enjoy the entire list at home with the boys as we celebrate the arrival of spring.
I’m Glad the Sky is Painted Blue
(Anonymous)
I’m glad the sky is painted blue.
And the earth is painted green,
With such a lot of nice fresh air
All sandwiched in between.
Goodbye My Winter Suit
By N.M. Bodecker
Goodbye my winter suit,
Goodbye my hat and boot,
Goodbye my ear-protecting muffs,
And storms that hail and hoot.
Farewell to snow and sleet,
Farewell to Cream of Wheat,
Farewell to ice-removing salt,
And slush around my feet.
Right on to daffodils,
Right on to whippoorwills,
Right on to chirp-producing eggs,
And baby birds and quill.
The day is on the wing,
The kite is on the string,
The sun is where the sun should be,
It’s spring all right! It’s spring.
Spring
By Karla Kuskin
I’m shouting
I’m singing
I’m swinging through trees
I’m winging sky-high
With the buzzing black bees.
I’m the sun I’m the moon
I’m the dew on the rose.
I’m a rabbit
Whose habit
Is twitching his nose.
I’m lively
I’m lovely
I’m kicking my heels.
I’m crying “Come dance”
To the freshwater eels.
I’m racing through meadows
Without any coat
I’m a gamboling lamb
I’m a light leaping goat
I’m a bud
I’m a bloom
I’m a dove on the wing.
I’m running on rooftops
And welcoming spring!
Who Has Seen the Wind?
By Christina Rossetti
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.
Windy Nights
By Robert Louis Stevenson
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.
Happy Spring!
Sign up NOW for my best tips delivered weekly to your inbox!
You’ll also get instant access to my library of free ebooks and resources.
You might also like...
