Does this poem make you think of any time when you have played by yourself beside the water? What do you think the water says?
 

WHEN I am playing by myself, 
And all the boys are lost around, 
Then I can hear the water go; 
It makes a little talking sound.

Along the rocks below the tree, 
I see it ripple up and wink; 
And I can hear it saying on, 
"And do you think? And do you think?"

A bug shoots by that snaps and ticks, 
And a bird flies up beside the tree 
To go into the sky to sing. 
I hear it say, "Killdee, killdee!"

Or else a yellow cow comes down 
To splash a while and have a drink. 
But when she goes I still can hear 
The water say, "And do you think?" 

People use patterns to cut out dresses and sometimes a poet uses a pattern to "cut out'" a poem. Can you find the pattern in this one? It sounds easy, but it is really rather difficult to make a poem like this one. Do you know why Mr. Stephens called it "The Rivals'"?
 

 I  HEARD a bird at dawn
Singing sweetly on a tree, 
That the dew was on the lawn,
And the wind was on the lea; 
But I didn't listen to him, 
For he didn't sing to me.
 

"I didn't listen to him,
For he didn't sing to me 
That the dew was on the lawn
And the wind was on the lea; 
I was singing at the time
Just as prettily as he.

I was singing all the time,
Just as prettily as he, 
About the dew upon the lawn
And the wind upon the lea; 
So I didn't listen to him 
As he sang upon a tree. 

  

Here is a poem about a little girl who thinks that some of the flowers 
in her garden are very incorrectly named. Can you think of any other flowers that do not live up to their names?

I  WENT this morning down to where the Johnny-Jump-Ups grow 
Like naughty purple faces nodding in a row.
I stayed 'most all the morning there I sat down on a stump
And watched and watched and watched them 
and they never gave a jump!

And Golden Glow that stands up tall and yellow by the fence, 
It doesn't glow a single bit — it's only just pretense 
I ran down after tea last night to watch them in the dark 
I had to light a match to see; they didn't give a spark!

And then the Bouncing Bets don't bounce —1 tried them yesterday, 
I picked a big pink bunch down in the meadow where they stay, 
I took a piece of string I had and tied them in a ball,
And threw them down as hard as hard — they never bounced at all!

And Tiger Lilies may look fierce, to meet them all alone, 
All tall and black and yellowy and nodding by a stone,
But they're no more like tigers than the dog-wood's like a dog,
Or bulrushes are like a bull or toadwort like a frog! 

I like the flowers very much — they're pleasant as can be 
For bunches on the table, and to pick and wear and see, 
But still it doesn't seem quite fair — it does seem very queer 
They don't do what they're named for — not at any time of year! 

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