Flower Poems For Kids


​me still.​

​Love is like ​


​their wings.​

​Your minds full ​

​, ​

​Flies, worms, and flowers exceed ​

​~Hans Christian Anderson​

​the colors of ​


​, ​

​I will,​little flower.”​

​through each of ​Or did you ​, ​

​dressed fine as ​

​sunshine, freedom and a ​


​on fire​

​, ​

​Let me be ​

​not enough,” said the butterfly, “one must have​

​their victory and ​

​light the world ​, ​

Resource Types

​coats than I:​“Just living is ​

​the story of ​Your smile could ​

​websites: ​Appear in gayer ​~Heinrich Heine, “New Spring”​Then they share ​

​they glow​Information obtained from ​

​the butterfly​

​is hovering found.​flowers in spring.​

​Like the moon ​~Deborah Chaskin​The tulip and ​The sun's sweet ray ​

"When I was a child, my mother said to me, 'If you become a soldier, you'll be a general. If you become a monk you'll end up as the pope.

​then emerge like ​as the stars​own time.​~Friedrich Nietzsche​


My Mother

​magic cocoon….​Your eyes sparkle ​awaken in my ​

​times.​But round himself, all tender like ​
​awhile in a ​so​
​butterfly, I too will ​be small at ​hovering round;​
​They stay out ​to tell you ​Just like the ​

​understand how to ​A thousand times ​

​and start spinning.​I just had ​~Maya Angelou​

​things must​
​love,​on a limb ​snow​
​that beauty.​of all good ​the butterfly's deep in ​
​so, they go out ​On a winter ​

Mom and Me –

​through to achieve ​for it.  Whoever would partake ​With the rose ​

​life,​like sunlight rays​
​it has gone ​confess our love ​
​~Edith Wharton​their lot in ​
​You shine just ​the changes​when we​

Our Mother is the Sweetest

​winter woods.​They're content with ​

​I've ever seen​the butterfly, but rarely admit ​
​grass hates us ​butterfly in the ​
​their life's just beginning.​most beautiful thing​
​the beauty of ​me that the ​
​a​they see that ​
​Your are the ​
​We delight in ​them.  It seems to ​
​they had surprised ​they hatch…​

​You're My Butterfly​~Rabindranath Tagore, /Stray Birds/​stoop down to ​
​happiness as if ​
​eggs and after ​fly.​thanks to him.​
​lower ourselves to​come suddenly upon ​

My Mom

​First butterflies are ​other how to ​the flowers owe ​and have to ​They seemed to ​harm.”​

​But, you teach each ​is sure that ​
​hand, have outgrown them ​~Richard Buckminster Fuller​
​do it no ​you your wings,​
​The gaudy butterfly ​on the other ​

​butterfly.​Make sure you ​
​God has given ​when they leave.​
​they are.  We adults,​
​be a​beauty in life.​Learn to listen, laugh and cry​

​hum their thanks ​much taller than ​it's going to ​
​of all the ​Be a lover, friend and playmate​
​from flowers and ​not yet so ​
​that tells you ​“It's a symbol ​

​has just begun​Bees sip honey ​
​is who is ​in a caterpillar ​
​arm…​Your infinite journey ​
​~Andre Gide​as the child ​

Mommy, I Love You

​There is nothing ​stayed at my ​with butterfly kisses​

​the flowers, the grass, and the butterflies​~Nathaniel Hawthorne​
​As the butterfly ​Shower your lover ​
​never become a ​as close to ​
​you.​of good luck”, my Mother said.​
​one​itself well would ​
​We must remain ​sit down quietly, may alight upon ​
​“It's a sign ​

When Mother Reads Aloud

​of you are ​wanted to know​Roller”​grasp, but which, if you will ​

​sleeve.​Now the two ​
​own development. A caterpillar who ​~Marianne Moore, “To a Steam ​
​beyond your​lit at my ​Share together life's great adventure​
​himself arrests his ​vain, if it exists.​butterfly, which when pursued, is always just ​
​and a butterfly ​butterfly​
​is ugly. Whoever observes​the complement is ​Happiness is a ​
​my Mother's side…​wings of a ​

​pernicious as it ​the congruence of ​
​~Jeffrey Glassberg​the yard at ​
​As if with ​Know thyself! A maxim as ​
​but to question ​little sunshine.​
​I sat in ​soar​
​~Elizabeth Goudge​you;​
​a​summer's eve.​

​and learn to ​all indeterminate creatures.​
​conceive of one's attending upon ​side of life.  And everyone deserves ​
​on a balmy ​Spread your wings ​
​fascinating as are ​As for butterflies, I can hardly ​to the sunny ​
​ago…​make it, so reach high​
​not quite flowers, mysterious and​Milkweed”​
​butterflies lead you ​child many years ​

​Is what you ​Not quite birds, as they were ​

​~Robert Frost, “Pod of the ​Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable,​Once as a ​

​life together​drift in color, illuminating spring.​
​fairly faced.​Lebrun​Butterfly​
​Your flight through ​Flowers and butterflies ​
​nothing must be ​~Ponce Denis Écouchard ​

My Mommy Cuddles Me

​Legend of the ​each partner brings.​~John Grey​

​Should come to ​tethered butterfly.​
​beautiful!​With the love ​
​caterpillar, at rest.​
​why so much​

​The flower a ​Each one is ​
​and it develops​He's but a ​
​say the reason ​a flying flower,​
​special!​A marriage grows ​And what's a butterfly? At best,​
​He seems to ​
​The butterfly is ​Each one is ​
​graceful wings,​~Primo Levi​future on?​

Seasons Poems

​~Karl Kraus​different!​And unfolds its ​

​decoded message, a symbol, a sign.​have staked the ​
​round.​Each one is ​
​emerges​value of a ​
​That science may ​the other way ​against the other?​
​Like a butterfly ​the​all gone​
​usually​Why compare one ​
​James​in our eyes ​
​flowers and butterflies ​that it is ​

​it can.​Written by Larry ​
​metamorphosis: the latter assumes ​Where have those ​
​book.  It's a misfortune ​flies the best ​

Tree Poems

​all.​perturbing mystery of ​
​~Billy Elmer​sat reading a ​
​but each one ​of healing for ​
​not enact the​into a condor.​
​where a boy ​higher than others;​be the start ​if they did ​
​get to seventy, it stretches​bench​Some can fly ​
​and may this ​stung, or above all ​thirty, but when you ​
​net on a ​the wind,​be remembered​
​bees, or if they ​when you're twenty or ​meadow.  He put his ​
​A butterfly in ​we mourn today ​
​briskly like​breast​butterfly in a ​
​A child is……..​of those that ​
​flew straight and ​great on your ​

​poet chase a ​Wind Poem​

​may the spirit ​did not fly, or if they ​

​tattoo.  That butterfly looks ​I saw a ​
​Butterfly In The ​earth angels,​beautiful if they ​

​Women, don't get a ​~Robert Frost, “Blue-Butterfly Day”​
​thank you, lovely butterflies.​of the tiniest ​

​think them so​~Deborah Chaskin​
​April mire.​earth.​On the wings ​
​to it. We would not ​own time.​freshly sliced the ​you beautify the ​

Flower Poems

​Today, tomorrow, and beyond.​symmetry: deeper motives contribute ​
​awaken in my ​Where wheels have ​
​you die,​luck, happiness, and riches.​colors and​
​butterfly, I too will ​wind and cling​
​from chrysalis until ​To bring you ​
​not only from ​Just like the ​
​over in the ​birth,​
​on.​The butterfly's attractiveness derives ​
​~Joseph Conrad​They lie closed ​you represent new ​
​shoulder to light ​~Charles Dickens​keep still.​
​desire​For butterflies, butterflies,​
​And find your ​free.​
​heap of mud ​having ridden out ​
​care?​kiss the sun.​
​to be free. The butterflies are ​never on his ​

​And now from ​Yet, does anyone truly ​
​of the butterfly ​I only ask ​it; but man will ​
​May the wings ​~William Wordsworth,​

Ocean Poems

​on​and all but ​
​heart when one ​Vladimir Nabokov​
​forth again!​and sits still ​
​flowers that fly ​it hurts my ​
​to man.”​And calls you ​

​heap of dirt ​But these are ​colours rare,​
​sweetest passions known ​trees,​finds a little ​
​~Richard Bach​with so many ​are the two ​

​out among the ​This magnificent butterfly ​
​butterfly.​Butterflies, beautiful butterflies,​
​“Literature and butterflies ​Hath found you ​
​~Li Po​a​until night.​

​Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.​you, when the breeze​
​They hurt me.  I grow older.​of the world, the master calls ​
​from early morning ​to me.​What joy awaits ​

​garden;​calls the end ​
​the flowers bright,​Report was not ​
​More motionless! and then​in the West ​
​What the caterpillar ​of nectars from ​
​by merchantman,​How motionless! – not frozen seas​Over the grass ​
​Carlin​daily fare​By frigate or ​

River and Stream Poems

​or feed​with August​
​~Attributed to George ​gathering up your ​
​ether sea​if you sleep ​are already yellow ​
​publicity.​and flitting there,​
​If met in ​I know not ​
​The paired butterflies ​gets all the ​
​of flitting here ​the distant bird,​
​And, little Butterfly! Indeed​Twilight”​
​but the butterfly ​have your fill.​
​If spoken by ​yellow flower​~Dana Burnet, “A Sail at ​
​all the work ​and let you ​
​be.​Self-poised upon that ​

Wind Poems

​the blind wind's blowing?​The caterpillar does ​admire you​
​Their coming mentioned ​half-hour;​
​Or are you ​butterflies.​
​They should just ​Though never yet, in any port,​
​now a full ​dream for going.​changed, there'd be no ​

​I've watched you ​Have you a ​If nothing ever ​
​against your solemn ​Upon a shining ​
​“To a Butterfly”​Gray butterfly!​~R.H. Heinlein​
​you​bore away​
​wherever it goes.​the sky,​

​propelled flowers.​and to hold ​
​And then together ​it pleases​
​Gray sail against ​Butterflies are self ​

​to catch you ​a beam;​

​it pleases and ​~Anton Chekhov​
​~Irish Blessing​dare.​

Purely Nature Poems

​And rested on ​a butterfly: It goes where ​
​repulsive caterpillar.​Today, tomorrow and beyond.​
​How could anyone ​through the firmament​
​Love is like ​turns into a​luck, happiness and riches ​
​Butterflies, Oh, butterflies,​Then stepped straight ​
​~Hans Christian Anderson​way around:  a lovely butterfly ​
​on, To bring you ​so rare.​
​a stream,​little flower.”​
​is the other ​shoulder to light ​Your beauty is ​
​And waltzed above ​sunshine, freedom and a ​with humans it ​
​And find your ​Butterflies, Oh, Butterflies,​
​out at noon​not enough,” said the butterfly, “one must have​
​butterfly.  But​kiss the sun ​
​Butterflies, Oh, Butterflies​Two butterflies went ​“Just living is ​
​into a lovely ​of the butterfly ​
​Through someone else's eyes.​orchard, Town-end, Grasmere.​
​~Heinrich Heine,​repulsive caterpillar turns ​
​May the wings ​God's precious gifts​Written in the ​
​is hovering found.​In nature a ​
​~Rabindranath Tagore​For we'd both seen ​

Reading poems with your child

​are now.​The sun's sweet ray ​~Winfield Townley Scott, “Annual Legend”​enough.​surprise.​As twenty days ​gold,​toward Spain…​moments, and has time ​In wonder and ​long​But round himself, all tender like ​a gold storm ​not months but ​ways​Sweet childish days, that were as ​hovering round;​All together, and flew in ​The butterfly counts ​

​went our separate ​young;​A thousand times ​South America,​shoulder.​And so we ​And summer days, when we were ​love,​rose up from ​sit on your ​wings.”​song,​

How to read a poem aloud

​the butterfly's deep in ​A million butterflies ​will come and ​I haven't arms, just these two ​sunshine and of ​With the rose ​

What to notice when reading a poem

​~Nikolaus Laszlo, Nora Ephron, and Delia Ephron,​the grass it ​that swing,​We'll talk of ​~Richard Buckminster Fuller​are.​sit quietly in ​

​not two legs ​on the bough!​

​be a butterfly.​almost all hats ​it. But if you ​

​But I have ​Sit near us ​it's going to ​

​a mistake – as​and never catch ​ground,​us, fear no wrong;​

​that tells you ​out to be ​over the field ​to touch the ​Come often to ​

​in a caterpillar ​that will turn ​

​a butterfly all ​With human feet ​

​in a sanctuary!​There is nothing ​

​buy a hat ​You can chase ​around​

​Here lodge as ​~Nathaniel Hawthorne​to Bloomingdales to ​

​butterflies.​once to walk ​are weary;​you.​

​was going​changed, there'd be no ​I'd love just ​wings when they ​sit down quietly, may alight upon ​59th, where, I assume it ​

​If nothing ever ​nose.​Here rest your ​grasp, but which, if you will ​at 42nd, and off at ​loose, it'll fly.​finger to my ​

I'm Glad the Sky is Painted Blue

​are, my Sister's flowers;​beyond your​one.  It got on ​
​hold it too ​Or touch my ​
​My trees they ​butterfly, which when pursued, is always just ​the subway, and today, I saw​
​tight, it'll crush,​my toes​

The Crocus

​orchard-ground is ours;​

​Happiness is a ​a butterfly in ​
​hold it too ​To squish it's mud between ​This plot of ​

The Secret Song

​~Jeffrey Glassberg​

​a story about ​a butterfly,​
​you,​forth again!​
​a little sunshine.​
​Once I read ​

​Love is like ​God's Earth with ​
​And calls you ​And everyone deserves ​
​~Philip Larkin, “Autumn”​
​wherever it goes”.​

​Is walk upon ​trees,​
​side of life.​and died.​
​and it pleases ​to do​
​out among the ​

​to the sunny ​summer settled there ​
​it pleases​He said, “What I'd love most ​
​Hath found you ​butterflies lead you ​
​As if all ​

​it goes where ​would be.​
​you, when the breeze​Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable,​
​rich it looks​a butterfly,​
​what his wish ​


​What joy awaits ​

​Lebrun​of butterflies so ​“Love is like ​
​and told me ​More motionless! and then​
​~Ponce Denis Écouchard ​And the case ​it.​
​spoke to me​How motionless!–not frozen seas​tethered butterfly.​
​~Paul Erlich​to have seen ​
​Then magically he ​or feed.​
​The flower a ​the planet.​
​We feel lucky ​ground.​

The Wind

​if you sleep ​

​a flying flower,​other side of ​have stayed…​
​must touch the ​I know not ​The butterfly is ​

​on the​wish it could ​My human feet ​
​And, little Butterfly! indeed​~Karl Kraus​effect climate changes ​And though we ​

​to walk around.​yellow flower​round.​
​a butterfly's wings can ​flies again,​I've been designed ​Self-poised upon that ​

​the other way ​The fluttering of ​But then it ​

The Ferns

​~Maya Angelou​

​world.​I haven't wings, just these two ​
​now a full ​that it is ​
​that beauty.​belong to our ​
​charm.​I've watched you ​
​book. It's a misfortune ​through to achieve ​
​beauty​not your graceful ​

​By William H. Davies. Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern British Poetry. 1920.​sat reading a ​
​it has gone ​brief moment, its glory and ​
​But I have ​stone a flower.​
​where a boy ​the changes​
​and for a ​sun.​
​To make a ​bench​


​the butterfly, but rarely admit ​

​a sunbeam​toward the summer ​
​has power​net on a ​
​the beauty of ​beside us like ​
​To fly up ​Whose happy heart ​

​meadow. He put his ​We delight in ​
​A butterfly lights ​such fun​
​Small Butterfly;​

Until I Saw the Sea

​butterfly in a ​

​~Rabindranath Tagore, /Stray Birds/​Love​
​it would be ​joy like this​
​poet chase a ​
​thanks to him.​A Symbol of ​

​It looks like ​
​I'll make my ​
​I saw a ​the flowers owe ​so right.​

​I;​~Robert Frost,​
​is sure that ​Where all seems ​
​the way you ​

The Rain Has Silver Sandals

​No care take ​

​April mire.​The gaudy butterfly ​
​a dream​And sail around ​
​bed be hard,​freshly sliced the ​
​when they leave.​
​Would be like ​fly with you​
​Now let my ​Where wheels have ​
​hum their thanks ​esquisite flight,​
​I said, “I'd love to ​stone.​

First Snow

​wind and cling​

​from flowers and ​Of such an ​
​enough to hear.​On this unsweetened ​
​over in the ​Bees sip honey ​
​one moment​Then drifted close ​

Beyond Winter


​They lie closed ​~Dante Alighieri​
​To have but ​through the atmosphere​
​Friendless and all ​desire​
​judgment without screen?​flitterings.​

Maytime Magic

​He soared up ​

​Happy can lie;​
​having ridden out ​That flieth unto ​

​In such elegant ​
​through the sky.​rough, hard rock​
​And now from ​
​petals of flowers​
​Came floating gently ​That on a ​

​forth the angelic ​
​To kiss the ​
​Yesterday a butterfly​

Hurt no living thing

​A Butterfly;​

​and all but ​Born to bring ​
​to have wings,​
​Butterfly Wishes​from​
​flowers that fly ​are worms,​
​How it feels ​Tell of spring.​
​Here's an example ​
​But these are ​comprehend that we ​

Green Stems


​Whisper secrets,​(Sewall) James. Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.​
​~Richard Bach​Do ye not ​
​The butterfly only ​Petal wings—​
​By Alice Archer ​
​a butterfly.​~Andre Gide​
​me.​of the world, the master calls ​
​butterfly.​Of a loving ​
​Kiss me with ​Take care of ​
​calls the end ​never become a ​
​within a dance​in the sky.​
​done,​What the caterpillar ​
​itself well would ​
​As if coupled ​Floating flower​
​O Earth, O Sky, your use in ​Carlin​
​wanted to know​With the wind's gusty breath,​

A Dragonfly


​In liberty.​~Attributed to George ​
​own development.  A caterpillar who ​and rises​
​Flutter by,​
​I be one​publicity.​
​himself arrests his ​A butterfly lowers ​
​Butterfly​And nevermore can ​
​gets all the ​is ugly.  Whoever observes​
​freely say.​all.​

Fireflies in the Garden


​but the butterfly ​pernicious as it ​Her heart may ​

​seen it at ​That I am ​all the work ​

​Know thyself!  A maxim as ​Swiftly going wheresoever​thankful to have ​

​comes an ache,—I know​The caterpillar does ​~Robert Graves, “Flying Crooked”​

​moves away,​we are so ​

​For swift there ​butterflies.​

A Wee Little Worm

​of flying straight.​

​And then quickly ​could have stayed,​pain.​
​changed, there'd be no ​Master the art ​
​closely​we wish it ​I find out ​If nothing ever ​
​late,​A butterfly hovers ​

Fishes' Evening Song

​flies on again, and although​

​days grow,​
​~R.H. Heinlein​
​Will never now, it is too ​
​but then it ​
​I to three ​
​propelled flowers.​of flight)​
​A Butterfly Hovers ​
​to our world…​
​And then when ​
​Butterflies are self ​
​(His honest idiocy ​
​Today, tomorrow and beyond.​
​and beauty belong ​

​glorious new beginning”.​
​The butterfly, a cabbage-white,​
​luck, happiness and riches.​
​brief moment it's glory​I dream and ​
​is really a ​
​~Elizabeth Goudge​
​To bring you ​
​and for a ​

The Sandpiper

​be an ending ​

​all indeterminate creatures.​on.​
​beside us, like a sunbeam…​in which I ​
​what appears to ​
​fascinating as are ​shoulder to light ​

​A butterfly lights ​
​Till, drunk with sweets ​
​Often in life ​not quite flowers, mysterious and​
​And find your ​Beside Us​

​The one-winged moon,​~Chuang Tzu​
​[N]ot quite birds, as they were ​kiss the sun.​
​A Butterfly Lights ​
​that other butterfly,​

The Eagle

​a man.​

​a Fool”​of the butterfly ​the wing!​

​And I watch ​dreaming I am ​~William Butler Yeats, “Another Song of ​

​May the wings ​Beautiful butterflies on ​

​God’s confidence.​now a butterfly ​

​fool understands.​An Irish Blessing​

​following spring,​and light,​

​whether I am ​Not a poor ​

An Irish Blessing

​granted.​Returning home the ​For she has, instead of love ​
​was a butterfly, or​in his eye​heavens and be ​
​To warmer climates, off they go!​Serene and intense;​
​man dreaming I ​

One Day Butterfly

​Has a learning ​taken to the ​
​was then a ​of my hands,​
​it will be ​the cold and ​
​opens the candid ​know whether I ​
​In the prison ​releasing the butterfly​
​If winter brings ​And then wide ​
​I do not ​butterfly,​
​the wish and ​

A Chrysalis

​On mountaintops, and desert sand.​And close mine, too.​
​~Vita Sackville-West​This great purple ​
​So by making ​The rainforest, field, and prairie land,​
​of things,​hop.​
​~Carl Sagan​
​the Great Spirit.​most anywhere:​
​the primrose heart ​mind on the ​
​is forever.​to anyone but ​

​Making their homes ​I creep to ​changes of his ​
​and think it ​wish​
​the air,​do,​
​over his fellows:  he catches the​for a day ​
​no sound, they can't tell the ​Butterflies float in ​
​Just as I ​the writer scores ​
​butterflies who flutter ​Since they make ​golden yellow, too.​
​green wings​That is where ​
​We are like ​wish to it.​
​On wings of ​close their three ​
​drift in color, illuminating spring.​and whisper that ​orange, and silvery blue,​
​When the clovers ​
​gone; life itself is ​Flowers and butterflies ​

​capture a butterfly ​
​On wings of ​in the sun.​
​moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is ​~John Grey​
​As she swings ​moment?  For the​
​caterpillar, at rest.​come true they ​that catch the ​
​closëd together be​butterfly of the ​
​He's but a ​a wish to ​

​On colored wings ​Or perhaps they ​
​net over the ​And what's a butterfly? At best,​If anyone desires ​
​by​are one.​
​else, indeed, to clap the ​~Primo Levi​
​Legend​Butterflies go fluttering ​
​But her wings ​slip emptily by.  How​
​badly decoded message, a symbol, a sign.​An Indian Butterfly ​Butterflies​
​like me;​are not to ​

​value of a ​rare item.​

After Wings

​so right.​moon was once ​
​to write, if the days ​the​
​And you too, may become a ​
​Where all seems ​The little white ​
​It is necessary ​in our eyes ​
​butterfly clan.​a dream​

​I fill complete.​Prince/, 1943, translated from French​
​metamorphosis: the latter assumes ​can from the ​
​Would be like ​glad and fair​~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, /The Little​
​perturbing mystery of ​learn all you ​
​exquisite flight,​lacks of the ​
​about him.​not enact the​

​remember, my friend, don't fight it, but,​Of such an ​


​That what it ​have learned anything ​
​if they did ​sleeve…​
​one moment​so sweet,​think they​
​stung, or above all ​

​stay at your ​To have but ​

​And I am ​figures do they ​
​bees, or if they ​ever chances to ​
​a moment there,​

​father make?”  Only from these ​briskly like​
​If a butterfly ​In such elegant ​
​I sometimes settle ​
​money does his ​

​flew straight and ​For their beauty, tenacity and charm.​
​petals of flowers​Across and across.​
​he weigh?  How much​did not fly, or if they ​
​human race…​To kiss the ​

​with blood​
​has he?  How much does ​beautiful if they ​
​by the whole ​
​to have wings,​heavy and spotted ​

​old is he?  How many brothers ​think them so​
​Sought and valued ​How it feels ​
​Its wings are ​butterflies?” Instead, they demand:  “How​
​to it.  We would not ​

​people should know.​
​knows​the moss.​
​love best?  Does he collect ​
​symmetry:  deeper motives contribute ​A lesson more ​

​The butterfly only ​


​It sits in ​he​
​colors and​own insistence…​
​voice sound like?  What games does ​not only from ​persistence through their ​

​Of a loving ​weed, God knows what ​
​you, “What does his ​The butterfly's attractiveness derives ​
​They arrive by ​within a dance​
​There ’s a tiny ​never say to ​

​~Charles Dickens​to go.​
​As if coupled ​whence?​
​about essential matters.  They​free.​where they want ​
​With the winds's gusty breath,​From who knows ​
​you any questions ​to be free.  The butterflies are ​Still they get ​

​and rises​symbol together whirled​
​friend, they never ask ​

Ode to a butterfly

​I only ask ​the wind, it's true.​A butterfly lowers ​
​I and my ​new​~William Wordsworth, “To a Butterfly”​
​Butterflies bend with ​freely say.​
​sense;​have made a ​
​forth again!​life.​
​Her heart may ​Of spirit and ​
​them that you ​And calls you ​you go through ​so ever​

​double world​
​Grown-ups love figures.  When you tell ​trees,​look for as ​
​Swiftly going where ​drift through a ​
​~P.G. Wodehouse​out among the ​that you must ​
​moves away,​For double I ​
​the adjoining meadows.​
​Hath found you ​doubt…​And then quickly ​

​me.​of butterflies in ​you, when the breeze​
​the clouds of ​closely​Take care of ​
​of the uproar ​What joy awaits ​the lining in ​
​A butterfly hovers ​
​have no home,​~Steve Bull​
​More motionless! and then​The silver is ​
​Closely​soul and I ​formation, that's the trick.​

​How motionless! – not frozen seas​green, and you'll always grow.​A Butterfly Hovers ​
​I am the ​to fly in​or feed.​
​is saying Stay ​Lyrics/Song – Lenny Kravitz​In liberty.​
​get the butterflies ​if you sleep ​their wing​Fly fly fly​
​to roam​eager.  You have to ​
​I know not ​the tip of ​Fly high​

​O Earth, O Sky, you are mine ​mentally ready and ​And, little Butterfly!  Indeed​
​The green of ​Your're my butterfly​Love everywhere​
​sign that you're​yellow flower​
​people can trust.​so​have to pass​
​are fine – they're a physical ​Self-poised upon that ​
​Always be someone ​to tell you ​
​So tantalized to ​Nerves and butterflies ​half-hour;​

​blue.​I just had ​air,​
​~Gerald Brenan​now a full ​
​The blue….That means true ​know​In the sunny ​
​endure much leisure.​I've watched you ​is a must.​
​to let you ​the tawny grass​
​wherever it goes.​To follow that ​

​I just had ​I dance above ​

The butterfly

​than to butterflies.  Very few people ​it pleases​the”Golden Rule”…​
​to know​too.​
​to the ants ​it pleases and ​their wings is ​
​That I want ​And I swing ​

​We are closer ​a butterfly:  It goes where ​The gold in ​
​of everything​blue.​
​~Isaac Watts​topmost pearl, it swings​

​Higginson. Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.​hope in thee​
​that springs​upon thy wings​
​Thou soberest sprite ​past all mirth.​

​The garden one ​Seeking thine airy ​
​it sprung;​
​And flit on ​float a few ​Grasp that swift ​
​sky,​Or is thy ​

​thee​the garden’s fostering?​Thou winged blossom, liberated thing,​
​beguiled,​Through gorgeous cipher, past the reach ​
​Thou songless wanderer ​St. Vincent Millay​
​false or true,​cherish you​

​How he hangs ​we ever knew​take your hand.​
​Butterflies are white ​made the hay,​
​This audience of ​tropic show.​Where parties, phantom as herself,​

​On miscellaneous enterprise​Repairing everywhere,​
​From cocoon forth ​looks at the ​
​The air is ​butterfly must bear​always high and ​
​O child, when things have ​

​rich disdain.​butterfly, you see,​Was but the ​
​I too had ​wonder why​
​has flown,—​Its gauzy, splendid wings had ​
​“She shall!” I said. How could I ​and eager eyes​

​A pretty creature, by and by,​death, a spotted wing,​Some day within ​
​With doubtful look ​I made reply,​
​in her tiny ​And yet she ​It was not ​
​found one day​

​again​Then in his ​time.​
​luck, happiness and riches.​
​kiss the sun.​thunderbolt he falls.​
​The wrinkled sea ​

​Close to the ​The Atlantic Ocean.​
​But small or ​
​Swift and brittle,​wonder,​Sleepy fish.​
​…​Slash splish;​

​Eye to eye.​Soothing sounds.​Flip flop,​
​of the whole ​Hickory nut​
​Only, of course, they can't sustain the ​(And they were ​
​earth come emulating ​Robert Frost​

​spun glass,​And sat on ​
​When the heat ​
​Where no wind ​Is all they ​
​a geranium,​And every flower ​

​Where ferns uncurl​crawl and creep​

The example

​Nor dancing gnat, nor beetle fat,​dusty wing,​
​Christina Rossetti​
​A little seed​
​And through the ​Ralph Waldo Emerson​
​like popcorn-balls.​snow.​

​   Of ice from ​And shoes with ​
​May Justus​did I know ​
​that sun​know​
​Between the toes.​
​yellow rose.​All squishy-squash between the ​
​Through fathoms of ​like stillness,​

​The ferns lie ​

To a butterfly

​the forest floor,​the seawinds plunge ​am spent, I lie quiet ​
​pink.​move and ships ​
​Or steal through ​
​leaves from the ​James Reeves​in watery Glade,​
​spreads along the ​
​in the breeze,​
​Sara Coleridge​   creep over the ​
​I, said the night ​Only me.​fog​
​   flash on a ​rose?​

​cup.​Walter Crane​
​With such a ​I'm glad the ​
​that interest them ​how we can ​notice anything new ​
​• What do they ​• Were there any ​
​remind your child ​language as art.​
​notice when you ​the end of ​day!​
​to the season ​garden or can't get outdoors ​
​world around them ​dimension that will ​
​can get outside ​You can read ​

​Bute Smedley​Kao Shih-chi​

Two butterflies went out at noon

​by Charlotte Druitt ​Accordance of Nature ​
​All That's Past by ​My Garden by ​
​Christina Rossetti​Emily Dickinson​
​Before Quiet by ​by Fiona Macleod​

​Wind by Amy ​Edward Shanks​
​by Dolly Radford​Christina Rossetti​
​Dorothy Wordsworth​
​Windy Night by ​Evening by Percy ​

​Where Do the ​Ellen Carhart​
​Mad River by ​The Cataract of ​
​Davies​The Gallant Ship ​
​by Maude Keary​Waves by Eleanor ​

​By the Sea ​

​Full Fathom Five ​Barry Cornwall​A Life on ​Sea Fever by ​
​Robert Bridges​

​Dear Little Violets ​The Little Rose ​Edith King​
​Pull The Weeds ​The Rose Beyond ​Winged Seeds by ​
​Radford​of Summer by ​
​Daisy Song by ​

​Hulme​Rossetti​by William Cullen ​
​The Clouds by ​Irene F. Pawsey​Miller​Shakespeare​
​Woodman, Spare that Tree ​Evening by Robert ​Robert Bridges​Come Little Leaves ​

Learn to Fly

​Ogden Nash​Pleasant Changes by ​

​A Summer Morning ​Spring Storm by ​
​Cullen Bryant​I am glad ​
​on walks with ​tickles my toes ​
​misses me​looks from such ​
​You hug me ​Mommy, I know you ​
​Mommy, I love you ​be true.​
​right, redress the wrong;​When Mother reads ​ocean blue.​
​I cross the ​Mother reads aloud.​thrilling fray;​
​aloud, the past​Ahh the worlds ​To teach you ​
​and hug you​was always there.​
​tells me I'm special,​My mom is ​
​always care.​
​My mom watches ​tells me I'm special,​
​My mom is ​mom of a ​all like liquid ​

​Her love is ​

​But passionately young,​of paradise​
​Our mother is ​
​Warm hearts and ​mom and me​
​as can be!​me.​
​a mom is ​to light my ​you're always near.​

​so cute in ​a painter and ​
​Some filters moved ​See All Resource ​
​you looking for?​For All Subject ​Holidays/Seasonal​
​can work for ​Social Studies - History​

​English Language Arts​My flower is ​
​And full of ​God knows my ​
​By Thomas Wentworth ​He seeks his ​the new career ​
​soul of man ​never close,​would drug thee ​
​of the joyous ​

​the homestead whence ​

​eager young,​On thee to ​

​With sudden splendor, and the tree-tops high​fragment of the ​
​bowers?​Take flight, and be like ​
​Still held within ​herds!​
​In glad pursuit ​thy tints unrolled​

​wings of gold,​Poetry of Edna ​
​Whether I be ​
​Suffer me to ​butterfly,​
​All the things ​Suffer me to ​

​Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.​And men that ​
​zealous blew,​As ’t were a ​
​cloud,​Contracting in a ​
​abroad​Emerged—a summer afternoon—​

​a Butterfly​The happy earth ​
​Bryan Piatt. Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.​Which even a ​
​To keep them ​again!”​
​Passed them in ​This was your ​


​lies in this:​And sorrowing I ​
​To-day the butterfly ​shell​little Mädchen see?”​
​Her laughing lips ​fly​
​Now still as ​would be​
​not like this,”​And wondered when ​
​She brought it ​nor wings, indeed;​
​fruit, nor flower, nor seed;​
​My little Mädchen ​
​to fly away ​us.​not aware of ​
​To bring you ​
​of the butterfly ​And like a ​
​azure world, he stands.​hands;​

​To outshout​is little.​

​On toothpick legs​He stops to ​
​Just to soothe​This we wish ​
​Drip drop.​Resting here​
​Water sounds,​Dahlov Ipcar​
​in the heart ​worm in a ​
​a very star-like start.​in size,​And here on ​were grass.​

​And wings like ​

​A dragon-fly came​
​Eleanor Farjeon​
​a bumblebee​
​The bottom of ​above them;​
​long-stemmed world​
​Little things that ​
​light of leap,​

​Nor moth with ​

​And then – a flower!​
​And that is ​To make it ​
​Mabel Watts​summer glow,​
​else today.​The bushes look ​

​   For moccasins of ​have hobnails​
​the spring,​upon a shore.​Nor​
​I never knew​I did not ​feels​
​Than smell a ​nice to feel​storm quivers​

​Their motion is ​growth they are.​but here on ​
​branches​And when I ​
​scent of a ​Seas I can ​
​tall towers,​And strip the ​the forest lives.​

​The Willow droops ​The Peach tree ​
​The Aspen quivers ​All alone.​moss​

​the sun?​pigeon,​
​Who saw the ​sunset​   drop from the ​
​sunbeam in her ​between.​
​is painted green,​for kids!​into the topics ​

​poems and discuss ​more than once. Did your child ​poem?​
​any rhyming words?​language of the ​listen to the ​
​• Does the poem ​Talk about using ​to what they ​
​punctuation, rather than at ​on a rainy ​

​match the poem ​If you don't have a ​with the natural ​
​a wonderful extra ​poem. But if you ​
​Robert Browning​Story by Menella ​
​Evening Calm by ​

​The Green Lady ​

​Ralph Waldo Emerson​
​Emily Dickinson​Douglas​

​Last Rites by ​
​Evening West by ​Leroy F. Jackson​
​The Unknown Wind ​Irene F. Pawsey​The Wind by ​
​The March Wind ​The Wind by ​
​The Wind by ​Ralph W. Emerson​
​The Brook by ​by Elizabeth Coatsworth​
​Alfred Tennyson​by Mary Carolyn ​
​Chute​Beneath the Sea ​
​There Are Big ​by Dolly Radford​

​Robert Bridges​
​the Sea by ​Baker​
​Louis Stevenson​Dusky Shore by ​George Cooper​
​Kate Greenway​Dandelion Down by ​

​by Richard Aldington​
​by Emily Dickenson​M. Garabrant​
​Buttercups by Dolly ​The Last Rose ​
​Brainard​by Thomas Ernest ​

​Clouds by Christina ​

​To a Cloud ​by Leroy F. Jackson​

​The Thief by ​

​Cherries by Emily ​Tree by William ​
​Stein​on a Snowing ​
​Hill Pines by ​E. Sangster​Winter Morning by ​
​Allingham​Marian Douglas​

​Ernest Hulme​Autumn by William ​
​to me,​and also goes ​
​for me,​kisses me, hugs me and ​

​Oh how mother ​care.​

​to scribble.​aloud.​So simple to ​
​To help the ​aloud.​
​Or sail the ​and true;​I meet when ​
​I join the ​tramp of armies ​When Mother reads ​

​On this Mother's Day.​and need me​
​I'll kiss you ​loving mom that ​My mom always ​
​teddy bear.​My mom will ​to tell me ​
​me grow,​My mom always ​own.​

​Perfect for the ​That runs through ​has lived long.​
​beautiful​She knows more ​
​a happy tear.​cry on, secrets to share​Best friends forever ​
​So I'm as happy ​good care of ​Celebrating the gift ​

​You're the sunshine ​throughout my life ​This would be ​
​' Instead I became ​you looking for?​
​the page.​Don't see what ​Specialty​Foreign Language​
​Shows resources that ​Science​Arts & Music​

​pretty wings,​and beautiful way,​yesterday,​
​faith endow!​bow.​
​His emblem of ​And yet the ​
​Thy calm eyes ​A second draught ​

​O daintiest reveller ​on every blossomed ​Unfettered through the ​
​Each fieldmouse keeps ​nests; they rear their ​
​tints to thee,​glance imbues​A sumptuous drifting ​o’er their parental ​
​completed hours,​other flowers,​and flocks and ​every child​

​With Nature’s secrets in ​life that wavest ​
​two.​sky.​take your hand.​
​Mark the transient ​two.​we wander through.​
​sea.​Till sundown crept, a steady tide,​

​And flower that ​In purposeless circumference,​With an opposing ​
​was seen​
​Except to stray ​her door​From Cocoon forth ​wings.​
​By Sarah Morgan ​
​creeping pain​fain​Only a worm ​
​The caterpillars crawl, but he​Bradley. Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.​

​robbed me of ​Perhaps the secret ​

​it fly,—​would be dead?​worm within its ​“And shall your ​
​“And will it, truly?” questioned she—​empty shell would ​brown thing​

​told her what ​“A butterfly is ​I would understand,​
​alive or dead.​Had neither legs ​

​That was not ​of the one-day butterfly​new chance​
​until Death kisses ​one-day butterflies,​on.​May the wings ​

​his mountain walls,​

​Ring'd with the ​crag with crooked ​notion​
​And his voice ​thunder.​of tide​
​Water smooth,​Swush, swash, swish.​
​Plip plop,​

​As we lie​Lip lap;​

​belongs to me!”​“O I live ​
​A wee little ​Achieve at times ​
​never equal stars ​
​the upper skies,​As though they ​

​jointed body,​land,​
​long-stemmed world.​
​Where no bird ​The belly of ​
​there​Beneath the leaves ​

​Deep in their ​Margaret Wise Brown​
​Nor grasshopper so ​Ladybird, nor butterfly,​
​A little while,​A little wish,​
​A little earth​below.​

​    I see the ​Look like somewhere ​
​where it falls.​then she changes​
​Her winter boots ​   For dancing in ​
​in and out​blue.​

​so.​the sea​

​How nice mud ​in wiggly mud​Mud is very ​
​And a great ​of the forest’s green.​A green sea ​
​moving westward,​High, high in the ​

​rave and riot;​a house-top or the ​
​flowers.​storm-clouds and shake ​without any key,​
​The Beech amid ​pleasant shade,​tall,​

Butterfly Quotes

​of trees,​fox,​
​Who saw the ​   green light of ​
​I, said the sea ​But nobody heard.​

​Who saw the ​petals​
​to catch a ​All sandwiched in ​

​And the earth ​own nature poems ​

​Follow your child's curiosity – do some research ​themes in the ​Read the poem ​

​message in the ​• Can they identify ​surprising in the ​feel when they ​up?​for kids.​to pay attention ​pause at the ​rain is perfect ​also good. You can also ​

​light.​of the poem ​in nature, it will add ​to enjoy a ​

​Pippa's Song by ​

​The North Pole ​Dempster Sherman​Enoch​On Nature by ​A Moor by ​Blueberrying by Marian ​Wordsworth​Thomas Hood​

​The Wind by ​

​Kate Greenaway​The Thief by ​


​George Macdonald​Bryant​by Clara W. Raymond​

​the Grass by ​River, River by Maude ​Dancing by ANG ​William Carlos Williams​The Mountain Brook ​

​The Brook by ​The Selfish Sea ​

​Undersea by Marchette ​Hilda Doolittle​Fannie Stearns Davis​Where Samphire Blows ​

​Dusky Shore by ​

​The Song of ​

​Sand by Dorothy ​At the Sea-side by Robert ​Emily Dickinson​My Garden by ​

​The Daisies by ​Vachel Lindsay​Aux Vieux Jardin ​

​Soft the Sun ​Dandelion by Nellie ​by Mary Howitt​

​by Jessie Penniman​by John Gardiner ​Above the Dock ​

​Wadsworth Longfellow​

​Robert Bridges​Under the Willow ​La Fontaine​Kerr​Under the Greenwood ​Trees by Evaleen ​

​Stopping by Woods ​by Samuel Rogers​Awakening by Margaret ​F. Butts​Seasons by William ​

​the Kettle by ​Autumn by Thomas ​

​The Voice of ​

​Sings sweet songs ​with me,​

​Washes my clothes ​me​

​you, you're always there.​you show you ​

​for little ones ​

​My eyes, when Mother reads ​strong,​to do...​I scale, when Mother reads ​

​jungle's prowling bands,​

​Seem very near ​

​proud​cast,​I hear the ​

​little one's mind!​you​You feed me ​

​you do.​

​For the fun ​very kind,​Coz I'm her little ​kiss,​She'll never have ​

​My mom watches ​

​very kind,​

​it on their ​mountains sing.​A bubbling, laughing spring​As one who ​She's not only ​

​all.​Simple and sentimental, sure to bring ​

​a shoulder to ​

​token or inscription.​it,​'Cause you take ​

​- Joanna Fuchs​way​

​dear​- Pablo Picasso​

​the page.​Don't see what ​

​the top of ​

​Types​Social Studies - History​

​English Language Arts​Areas​


​Other​corn are my ​in a smooth ​what I was ​

​Symbol of life, me with such ​

​all his spirit ​aspiration; thou​sun gives birth.​

​orgy shows;​honey gives satiety;​

​for thee,​

​The sweetness spiced ​Nature’s freeman,—free to stray ​livelong day;​

​Birds have their ​

​Then lend those ​

​sunset its last ​heavenly hues,​

​Hovering at will ​soar with the ​binds thee to ​

​days mid flowers ​Yet dear to ​


​Thou spark of ​a day or ​is in the ​

​Suffer me to ​

​in that hour,​a day or ​In this field ​

​Extinguished in its ​Disdained them, from the sky,​bee that worked,​

​to go​hay, then struggling hard​Her pretty parasol ​trace,​

​As lady from ​And sings.​With frail blue ​worm again!​

​Think of the ​Wings once, they must be ​says, “Let him be​made him vain:​

​By Mary Emily ​And Death that ​

​is mine alone.​

​here to see ​

​My little Mädchen ​That ere the ​

​sparkle of surprise​

​blue and gold.​Till from the ​

​How, slowly, in the dull ​So then I ​baby butterfly.”​To see if ​Whether it was ​

​Or crept, or climbed, or swam, or flew;​

​in her play,​dance​

​waiting for a ​or honey​

​Aren't we all ​shoulder to light ​

​today​He watches from ​

​lands,​He clasps the ​

​He has a ​pipes​

​The lace of ​At the edge ​

​Water clear,​

​Fish tails swish,​

​Drop by drop,​fins​

​Slip slap,​And it all ​

​could be,​James Whitcomb Riley​

​at heart)​

​That though they ​stars to fill ​my fingers​

​With its blue ​Made drowsy the ​Deep in their ​

​Down so low​of a trillium,​Blows above them ​


​grass forests,​that creep.​cheerily,​

​thing:​A little shower…​A little pat…​

​sow…​    The warm rosebuds ​


​I always play,​Snow makes whiteness ​Which now and ​   For summer's frolicking.​

​silver sandals​a sea breathes ​whole sea of ​could wrinkle water ​

​Until I saw ​

​the rosebush knows​I’d rather wade ​Polly Chase Boyden​shifts between​

​In a light ​captured stillness.​A storm is ​

​Gene Baro​

​angry I can ​I can carry ​not wake the ​I can drive ​

​through a doorway ​useful timber gives,​

​The Sycamore gives ​

​up straight and ​called the King ​I, said the gray ​

​The only one.​first​sea?​

​I, said the fish,​

​But nobody knows.​Who saw the ​reaches up​fresh air​

​blue,​to write their ​of nature.​Talk about the ​

​poet?​• Is there a ​any unusual sounds?​anything exciting or ​• How do they ​

​a poem conjure ​the following poems ​

​Encourage your child ​

​each poem aloud, speak slowly and ​for kids about ​a window is ​

​in a new ​connect the words ​poems for kids ​

​is your imagination ​

​Reeves​Beatrix Potter​Witchery by Frank ​Laughter by Olive ​

​Mare​I Never Saw ​by William Blake​Notes by William ​

​I Remember, I Remember by ​

​O. W. Holmes​

​Little Wind by ​Prescott​

​by William Carlos ​

​the Moon by ​by William Cullen ​

​The Wild Wind ​The Wind in ​

​Robert Louis Stevenson​Conkling​

​Willow Poem by ​Southey​Emily Dickinson​

​Scott​John Masefield​Sea Poppies by ​

​Storm Dance by ​

​Below the Rocks ​

​Dolly Radford​by Epes Sargent​Castles in the ​Irene F. Pawsey​The Sea by ​

​Field​by Elizabeth Davies​The Dandelion by ​A. L. Fink​

​The Daisy Follows ​

​Jane Taylor​Buttercups and Daisies ​The Wild Flowers ​Clouds at Morning ​


​Sundown by Henry ​Upper Skies by ​by Marjorie Barrows​the Acorn by ​

​Night by William ​Morris​The Little Fir ​


​To An Oak ​

​Goodale​Winter Night's by Mary ​Goodrich​

​The Song of ​Hoatson​me.​

​Says "sweet dreams" to me,​giggles and talks ​amazes me​

​My mommy cuddles ​When I need ​By the way ​

​Little words perfect ​the visions crowd​

​easy to be ​For noble deeds ​cold mists shroud,​

​Or hunt the ​aloud, far lands​ladies fair and ​spears and lances ​

​every day;​life in a ​

​So smile 'cause I love ​me, too.​For all that ​

​my mind.​My mom is ​will never miss,​always hug and ​Of course she'll always know,​

​my mind.​My mom is ​little to say ​And makes the ​

​of life,​kid, yet wise​recall.​Most delicate of ​care.​

​climbing trees.​for that little ​and you show ​I'm happy you're my mom,​

​I'm Happy You're My Mom ​to guide my ​My Mother, my friend so ​


​the top of ​All Resource Types​

​to Formats filters, which is at ​See All Resource ​

​Science​Arts & Music​For All Subject ​

​Holidays/Seasonal​All Formats​

​I kiss its ​

​The color of ​I am made ​I am not ​Of immortality.​

​When death’s arrest bids ​

​Forever soars in ​

​to which the ​Thy feast no ​One drop of ​

​wide banquet spreads ​food,​But thou art ​errands all the ​

​short hours, and die?​


​Caught when the ​lustre drawn from ​Irrevocably free,​

​Will they too ​

​What secret tie ​Living his unspoiled ​of words,​mid the songful ​

​Second April.​Death comes in ​Till the dawn ​

​upon the flower.​Will be ashes ​Death comes in ​and blue​

​And afternoon, and butterfly,​idleness​

​And not withstanding ​To Nowhere seemed ​Where men made ​

​The clovers understood.​Without design, that I could ​a butterfly​sky​

​like a butterfly​To be a ​


​learned to wear​

​My pretty boy ​His fine wings ​radiant creature’s flight!​found a chrysalis,​

​The empty shell ​She was not ​spread,​tell​

​All in a ​All radiant in ​And then another, would unfold,​

​the chrysalis;​she answered me.​“You’ve found a ​

​hand​was not sure, she said,​anything that grew,​

​A curious something ​

​and join the ​arms, tenderly rocked,​Searching for partners ​Today, tomorrow and beyond.​And find your ​

​Order your butterflies ​beneath him crawls;​sun in lonely ​Alfred Tennyson​


​He runs and ​Races through​Frances Frost​Water cold,​Fish fins fan,​

​Water falls​We fan our ​

​Flip flap,​

​round world,​Sang, happy as he ​part.​

​never really stars ​flies,​Here come real ​It lit on ​my hand,​

​of the summer​blows,​

​see, these little things​The back side ​upon its stem​To a greener ​

​In the green ​

“Blue-Butterfly Day”

​Nor harmless worms ​Nor cricket chirping ​Hurt no living ​A little sun,​
​A little hole,​For me to ​wild-piled snowdrift​
​Over the winter ​And places where ​Marie Louise Allen​
​heel to toe,​golden tassels​The rain has ​


​could splinter a ​that wind​Lilian Moore​Nobody else but ​toes!​green.​
​As if water ​underwater​the ferns have ​and roar.​as quiet.​
​When I am ​I can sink;​

​a garden and ​

​great oak tree.​I can get ​
​The Fir tree ​wall,​

​The Poplar grows ​The Oak is ​

​owl,​Who saw the ​   come over the ​
​bird?​I, said the spider,​

​Margaret Wise Brown​

​The golden crocus ​lot of nice ​sky is painted ​
​– and encourage them ​take better care ​with each reading?​

​think inspired the ​

​words they didn't understand?​• Did they notice ​• Did they find ​of anything?​• What images does ​

​read each of ​

“New Spring”

​each line.​When you read ​or weather. Reading a poem ​
​then sitting by ​and see nature ​
​help your child ​and read nature ​
​poetry anywhere – all you need ​Spells by James ​

​Little Garden by ​

​Cole​by J. J. Whittier​
​Walter de la ​George Cooper​

​Auguries of Innocence ​

​A Thousand Blended ​Hazel Hall​September Gale by ​Lowell​
​Flutter, Flutter by Mary ​

​The Soughing Wind ​

​The Wind and ​The West Wind ​Robert Louis Stevenson​
​Bysshe Shelley​Boats Go by ​
​Water by Hilda ​
​Henry Wadsworth Longfellow​Lodore by Robert ​My River by ​

​by Sir Walter ​
​Sea Fever by ​
​Farjeon​by D.B. McKean​
​by William Shakespeare​The Sea by ​the Ocean Wave ​
​John Mansfield​White Horses by ​

​by John Moultrie​

​Tree by Rachel ​A Meadow Song ​by M. McKee​

​The wall by ​

​Helen Gray Cone​The Violet by ​Thomas Moore​
​Grace Denio Littchfield​I Saw Two ​Moonlight by Ann ​
​Bryant​Percy Bysshe Shelley​Pine Tree Song ​The Pumpkin and ​
​The Trees at ​by! by George Pope ​Frost​Trees by Sara ​
​by George Cooper​April! April! Are You Here? by Dora Read ​Jane Browne​Ramble by Samuel ​
​William Carlos Williams​Autumn by Florence ​

​she belongs to ​

​for me,​pampers me, praises me, always​

​small eyes!​

​oh, so gently;​love me​

​- Joanna Fuchs​Oh, thick and fast ​
​It seems so ​aloud, I long​

​Far heights, whose peaks the ​

​deserts' gleaming sands,​When Mother reads ​Brave knights and ​
​I see the ​Seems real as ​momma brings to ​
​to play,​'Cause you love ​Mommy, I love you​

​She's always on ​

​very special,​My days she ​My mom will ​me cry,​
​She's always on ​very special,​little one too ​light​

​like the rush ​

​Playful as a ​Than angels can ​the sweetest and​hands that really ​
​picking flowers and ​Timeless and perfect ​You love me ​

​for their children.​

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