Summer Poetry for Kids to Enjoy

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Summer poetry for kids. Summer is the time of infinite fun, pleasure and adventure. It's the time of excitement and inhanced enjoyment of life. So children love this season and enjoy reading and learning the poems about it.

Summer Poetry for Kids to Enjoy


Summer Poetry for Kids to Enjoy

Summertime


See the shining sun.
See us play and run.
Summertime, oh, summertime,
We are having fun.Watch us as we play.
We play and run all day.
Summertime, oh, summertime,
Please don’t run away.

Missing Summer


The grass so green,
the sun so bright.
Life seems a dream,
no worries in sight.

Tans and tank tops,
laughter and bliss.
Each moment passes
without even a miss.

Friends and cookouts,
memories and laughs.
Good times to remember,
but how long will it last?

The grass soon fades,
leaves begin to fall.
School replaces sleepovers.
Oh, I'll miss it all.

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?

*** *** ***

In summer I like to play outside.
In summer I like to go to the seaside.
I like to pick up shells,
To put them on the shelf.
That’s what I like to do sometimes,
When it comes the summertime.

Summer is Coming

by Dora

«Summer is coming!» the soft breezes whisper;
«Summer is coming!» the glad birdies sing.
Summer is coming—I hear her quick footsteps;
Take your last look at the beautiful Spring.
Lightly she steps from her throne in the woodlands:
«Summer is coming, and I cannot stay;
Two of my children have crept from my bosom:
April has left me but lingering May.
»What tho' bright Summer is crownèd with roses.
Deep in the forest Arbutus doth hide;
I am the herald of all the rejoicing;
Why must June always disown me?" she cried.
Down in the meadow she stoops to the daisies,
Plucks the first bloom from the apple-tree's bough:
«Autumn will rob me of all the sweet apples;
I will take one from her store of them now.»
Summer is coming! I hear the glad echo;
Clearly it rings o'er the mountain and plain.
Sorrowful Spring leaves the beautiful woodlands,
Bright, happy Summer begins her sweet reign.

*** *** ***

A summer day
Has rain or sun,
But either way
I find it fun.
To stand in rain
That/s pouring down
Or lie in sun
That paints me brown.

Summer

by Christina Rossetti

Winter is cold-hearted,
Spring is yea and nay,
Autumn is a weathercock
Blown every way:
Summer days for me
When every leaf is on its tree;
When Robin's not a beggar,
And Jenny Wren's a bride,
And larks hang singing, singing, singing,
Over the wheat-fields wide,
And anchored lilies ride,
And the pendulum spider
Swings from side to side,
And blue-black beetles transact business,
And gnats fly in a host,
And furry caterpillars hasten
That no time be lost,
And moths grow fat and thrive,
And ladybirds arrive.
Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown,
Why, one day in the country
Is worth a month in town;
Is worth a day and a year
Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion
That days drone elsewhere.

Summer moonlight

by Emily Bronte

Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,

All soft and still and fair;

The solemn hour of midnight

Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending

Their breezy boughs on high,

Or stooping low are lending

A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers

A lovely form is laid;

Green grass and dew-steeped flowers

Wave gently round her head.

*** *** ***

Summer brings us nice warm sun
For swimming, fishing, and lots of fun;
For finding seashells in the sand;
For sunbathing to get a tan;
To do all these things and more
At the beach and seashore.

Summer Is O'er

by Ed Blair

Old Winter's nigh—the landscape tells me so,
The trees are bare, their dead leaves piled below;
Between bare banks the chilly waters flow.
The Summer's o'er.
Between the cold gray rifts the moon peeps through
While on her nightly round, as if to view
Man's work complete and that still yet to do.
The Summer's o'er.
Each cow and horse securely in its stall
In barn and shed safe from the Winter's squall,
The coal bin full—let welcome snowflakes fall—
The Summer's o'er.

Summer Glory

by Annette Wynne

Is it true
That you
Are indeed
The shriveled seed
In spring I buried underground
Not a bit of green around?
Now you are
Full of light
As a star;
Out of night
Came this glory—grew to this
Little piece of perfect bliss;
O the joy to know
I helped you grow;
What mighty one would not be
Small helper in such glorious ministry!

Summer Poetry for Kids to Enjoy

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