DECEMBER POETRY

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A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS	RAIN CLOUDS
RHYME	POLAR-BEAR PINES
THE MORE IT SNOWS	TO WALK IN WARM RAIN
FIRST SNOW	STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

 

 

A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS

Clement Clarke Moore

 

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,

 

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

 

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the luster of midday to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

 

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas, too.

 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

 

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all covered with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

 

His eyes--how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

 

 

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.

 

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

 

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

 

 

 

Rhyme
By Elizabeth Coatsworth

I like to see a thunder storm,
         A dunder storm,
                  A blunder storm,
I like to see it, black and slow,
Come stumbling down the hills

I like to hear a thunder storm,
         A plunder storm,
                  A wonder storm,
Roar loudly at our little house

And shake the window sills!

 

 

Rain Clouds
By Elizabeth-Ellen Long

Along a road
Not built by man
There winds a silent
Caravan
Of camel-clouds
Whose humped gray backs
Are weighted down
With heavy packs
Of long-awaited,
Precious rain
To make the old earth
Young again,
And dress her shabby
Fields and hills
In green grass silk

With wild-flower frills

 

 

 

 

POLAR-BEAR PINES

 

Oh, every pine is a polar-bear zoo

when the fluffity, puffity storm is through,

for every branch holds a bear or two

when the fluffity storm is through.

 

Maybe-bears,

play-be-bears,

big and small and baby bears!

 

Slumpy bears,

dumpy bears,

never cross-and-grumpy bears!

 

Oh, every pine is a polar-bear zoo

when the rollicky, frolicky storm is through.

 

 

The More It Snows
By A. A. Milne

The more it
SNOWS-tiddely-pom,
The more it
GOES-tiddely-pom
The more it
GOES-tiddely-pom
On
Snowing.

And nobody
KNOWS-tiddely-pom,
How cold my
TOES-tiddely-pom
Are
Growing

 

 

To Walk in Warm Rain
By David McCord

To walk in warm rain
         And get wetter and wetter!
To do it again—
To walk in warm rain
         Till you drip like a drain.
To walk in warm rain

         And get wetter and wetter.

 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep

 

First Snow
By Louise Allen

Snow makes whiteness where it falls.
The bushes look like popcorn-balls.
And places where I always play,
Look like somewhere else today.