Poems about the
Seasons
Grade 3 - 4
Name_________
QUESTIONS TO ASK
DEFINE SPECIFIC WORDS
WHAT IS THE PASSAGE MAINLY ABOUT?
WHAT DOES THE UNDERLINED WORD MEAN?
WHAT WOULD BE ANOTHER GOOD TITLE FOR THE POEM?
WHAT IS THE POEM MOSTLY ABOUT?
WHAT DO TWO OF THE POEMS HAVE IN COMMON?
WHAT IS THE SETTING OF THE PASSAGE?
READ 3 DEFINITIONS OF A WORD. WHICH DEFINITION IS USED IN THE PASSAGE?
WHY DOES THE AUTHOR REPEAT A SET OF GIVEN WORDS?
OPEN ENDED – USE INFORMATION FROM THE PASAGE TO EXPLAIN TWO WAYS THEY ARE
ALIKE AND ONE WAY THEY ARE DIFFERENT.
WHAT IS THE SAME ABOUT BOTH POEMS?
READ THE LINES FROM THE POEM. WHAT DO THE LINES DESCRIBE?
WHAT IS THE MAIN IDEA OF THE POEM?
PICK A LINE FORM THE POEM. ASK WHAT DOES THE SPEAKER SAY?
WHAT IS THE MAIN IDEA OF THE LAST FOUR LINES OF THE POEM?
HOW ARE THE SETTINGS OF THE POEM SIMILAR OR DIFFERENT?
OPEN ENDED – EXPLAIN HOW THE SPEAKERS IN THE POEMS ARE DIFFERENT. USE ONE
EXAMPLE FROM EACH POEM TO SUPPORT YOUR EXPLANATION.
Picture Books in Winter
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Summer fading, winter comes-Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.
Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.
All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children's eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.
We may see how all things are
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies' looks,
In the picture story-books.
How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?
Dragon Smoke
By Lillian Moore
Breathe and blow
white clouds
with every puff.
It's cold today,
cold enough
to see your breath.
Huff!
Breathe dragon smoke
today!
First Snow
by Marie Louise Allen
Snow makes whiteness where it falls.
The bushes look like popcorn-balls.
The places where I always play
Look like somewhere else today.
The North Wind Doth Blow
traditional
The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then,
Poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn,
And keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing,
Poor thing.
The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the dormouse do then,
Poor thing?
Roll'd up like a ball,
In his nest snug and small,
He'll sleep till warm weather comes in,
Poor thing.
The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the children do then,
Poor things?
When lessons are done,
They must skip hump, and run,
Until they have made themselves warm,
Poor things.
A Story in the Snow
by Pearl Riggs Crouch
This morning, as I walked to school
Across the fluffy snow,
I came upon a bunny's tracks -A jumping, zigzag row.
He must have hurried very fast,
For here and there I saw
Along his jerky, winding trail
The print of Rover's paw.
I set my lunch pail on the snow
And stood there very still,
For only Rover's clumsy tracks
Led down the little hill.
Then suddenly I thought I heard
A rustling sound close by;
And there within a grassy clump
Shone bunny's twinkling eye.
Winter Blanket
by Ada L. Wine
The snow is like a blanket that
God spreads across the land,
Where wheat and oats and barley sleep,
Awaiting God's command.
It covers all the pasture fields,
And hides the grasses brown:
It gives the bare, gray willow tree
A clinging, wooly gown.
It wraps around a fencepost tall,
And covers up its head,
Then drifts along the meadow banks
To tuck the creek in bed.
A Fall Song
by Ellen Robena Field
Golden and red trees
Nod to the soft breeze,
As it whispers, "Winter is near;"
And the brown nuts fall
At the wind's loud call,
For this is the Fall of the year.
Good-by, sweet flowers!
Through bright Summer hours
You have filled our hearts with cheer
We shall miss you so,
And yet you must go,
For this is the Fall of the year.
Now the days grow cold,
As the year grows old,
And the meadows are brown and sere;
Brave robin redbreast
Has gone from his nest,
For this is the Fall of the year.
I do softly pray
At the close of day,
That the little children, so dear,
May as purely grow
As the fleecy snow
That follows the Fall of the year
Autumn Fires
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Come, children, all to bed," he cried;
And ere the leaves could urge their prayer,
He shook his head, and far and wide,
Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
Down sped the leaflets through the air.
I saw them; on the ground they lay,
Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
Waiting till one from far away,
White bedclothes heaped upon her arm,
Should come to wrap them safe and warm.
How the Leaves Came Down
by Susan Coolidge
"I'll tell you how the leaves came down,"
The great tree to his children said,
"You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown,
Yes, very sleepy, little Red.
It is quite time to go to bed."
"Ah!" begged each silly, pouting leaf,
"Let us a little longer stay;
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief;
Tis such a very pleasant day
We do not want to go away."
So, for just one more merry day
To the great tree the leaflets clung,
Frolicked and danced, and had their way,
Upon the autumn breezes swung,
Whispering all their sports among,-"Perhaps the great tree will forget,
And let us stay until the spring,
If we all beg, and coax, and fret."
But the great tree did no such thing;
He smiled to hear their whispering.
The great bare tree looked down and smiled,
"Good-night, dear little leaves," he said.
And from below each sleepy child
Replied, "Good-night," and murmured,
"It is so nice to go to bed!"
Jack Frost
by Gabriel Setoun
The door was shut, as doors should be,
Before you went to bed last night;
Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,
And left your window silver white.
He must have waited till you slept;
And not a single word he spoke,
But pencilled o'er the panes and crept
Away again before you woke.
And now you cannot see the hills
Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;
But there are fairer things than these
His fingers traced on every pane.
Rocks and castles towering high;
Hills and dales, and streams and fields;
And knights in armor riding by,
With nodding plumes and shining shields.
And here are little boats, and there
Big ships with sails spread to the breeze;
And yonder, palm trees waving fair
On islands set in silver seas,
And butterflies with gauzy wings;
And herds of cows and flocks of sheep;
And fruit and flowers and all the things
You see when you are sound asleep.
For, creeping softly underneath
The door when all the lights are out,
Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe,
And knows the things you think about.
He paints them on the window-pane
In fairy lines with frozen steam;
And when you wake you see again
The lovely things you saw in dream.
Winter
by Dorothy Aldis
The street cars are
Like frosted cakes -All covered up
With cold snowflakes.
The horses' hoofs
Scrunch on the street;
Their eyelashes
Are white with sleet.
And everywhere
The people go -With faces tickled
By the snow.
Falling Snow
by anonymous
See the pretty snowflakes
Falling from the sky;
On the wall and housetops
Soft and thick they lie.
On the window ledges,
On the branches bare;
Now how fast they gather,
Filling all the air.
Look into the garden,
Where the grass was green;
Covered by the snowflakes,
Not a blade is seen.
Now the bare black bushes
All look soft and white,
Every twig is laden,
What a pretty sight!
Coasting Down the Hill
Frosty is the morning;
But the sun is bright,
Flooding all the landscape
With its golden light.
Hark the sounds of laughter
And the voices shrill!
See the happy children
Coasting down the hill.
There are Tom and Charley,
And their sister Nell;
There are John and Willie,
Kate and Isabel Eyes with pleasure beaming,
Cheeks with health aglow;
Bless the merry children,
Trudging through the snow!
Now I hear them shouting,
"Ready! Clear the track!"
Down the slope they're rushing,
Now they're trotting back.
Full of fun and frolic,
Thus they come and go.
Coasting down the hillside,
Trudging through the snow.
Another Sure Sign
by Evaleen Stein
When pink-cheeked on every hand
Little girls are seen to stand
Turning skipping ropes,--swish-swash!-While their laughing playmates run
Jumping over,--oh, what fun!-Swish-swash! Swish-swash!
Two and two now, see them dash!
One, two, one, two,
Round they scamper, safely through,
Swish-swash! such merry skipping,
One, two,--some one is tripping!
Ah, she's out now and must pay
Turning rope while others play!
See the bobbing golden curls,
Little skirts in rhythmic swirls
Rising, falling, to the beat
Of the little skipping feet!
When these pretty sights appear,
It is surely very clear
April's here!
March Wind
March wind is a jolly fellow;
He likes to joke and play.
He turns umbrellas inside out
And blows men's hats away.
He calls the pussy willows
And whispers in each ear,
"Wake up you lazy little seeds;
Don't you know that spring is here?"
A Rain Song
by Evaleen Stein
Tinkle, tinkle,
Lightly fall
On the peach buds, pink and small;
Tip the tiny grass, and twinkle
On the clover, green and tall.
Tinkle, tinkle,-Faster now,
Little rain-drops, smite and sprinkle
Cherry-bloom and apple-bough!
Pelt the elms, and show them how
You can dash!
And splash! splash! splash!
While the thunder rolls and mutters,
And the lightnings flash and flash!
Then eddy into curls
Of a million misty swirls,
And thread the air with silver, and embroider it with pearls!
And patter, patter, patter
To a quicker time, and clatter
On the streaming window-pane;
Rain, rain,
On the leaves,
And the eaves,
And the turning weather-vane!
Rush in torrents from the tip
Of the gable-peak, and drip
In the garden-bed, and fill
All the cuckoo-cups, and pour
More and more
In the tulip-bowls, and still
Overspill
In a crystal tide until
Every yellow daffodil
Is flooded to its golden rim, and brimming o'er and o'er!
Then as gently as the low
Muffled whir of robin wings,
Or a sweep of silver strings,
Even so,
Take your airy April flight
Through the merry April light,
And melt into a mist of rainy music as you go!
Barefoot Days
by Rachel Field
In the morning, very early,
That’s the time I love to go
Barefoot where the fern grows curly
And the grass is cool between each toe,
On a summer morning – O!
On a summer morning!
That is when the birds go by
Up the sunny slopes of air,
And each rose has a butterfly
Or a golden bee to wear;
And I am glad in every toe –
Such a summer morning – O!
Such a summer morning!
In July
by Evaleen Stein
Let us find a shady wady
Pretty little brook;
Let us have some candy handy,
And a picture book.
There all day we'll stay and play and
Never mind the heat,
While the water gleaming, streaming,
Ripples round our feet.
And we'll gather curly pearly
Mussel shells while bright
Frightened minnows darting, parting,
Scurry out of sight.
What if, what if, - heigho! my oh! All the "ifs" were true,
And the little fishes wishes,
Now, what would you do?
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?
Dreaming of Summer
I'm
I'm
I'm
and
dreaming of warm sandy beaches.
dreaming of days by the pool.
dreaming of fun in the afternoon sun,
week after week of no school.
I'm thinking of swim suits and sprinklers,
imagining lemonade stands.
I'm lost in a daydream of squirt guns and ice cream
and plenty of time on my hands.
I'm picturing baseball and hot dogs,
Envisioning games at the park,
and how it stays light until late every night,
and seems like it never gets dark.
I long to ride skateboards and scooters.
I want to wear t-shirts and shorts.
I'd go for a hike, or I'd ride on my bike,
or play lots of summertime sports.
My revery turns to a yearning
to draw on the driveway with chalk.
It's really a bummer to daydream of summer
while shoveling snow from the walk.
--Kenn Nesbitt