November 7, 2009

Beehive Poetry Ceilidh I

Let the festival begin! The more the merrier!

Here's what to do: simply post a poem on your blog. It can be original or a favorite by another poet. Then come back to The Beehive and give Mr. Linky, below, the link to your poem post on your blog (not the link to your main blog page).

If you prefer, you may share your poem in the comments to this post.

Funnity fun!

ps. For those of you who wanted to know, ceilidh is pronounced KAY-lee.


5 comments:

Rebecca Shaw said...

I don't have a blog, so I will post this poem here. My grandpa quoted this poem to me from memory once when he was putting me to bed (in summer) while it was still light outside. I was thrilled to find it when I obtained Robert Louis Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verses to start Ambleside year 1 with my son:

Bed in Summer

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?

ladyjeanne said...

Fun fun fun! :)

Kate said...

Aloof

The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:-
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof, bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? What hand thy hand?
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seem'd not so far to seek,
And all the world and I seem'd much less cold,
And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong, and life itself not weak.

~ Christina Georgina Rossetti

Dominion Family said...

Fun, fun, fun!!

Also I will take this moment to say that I think Christina Georgina Rossetti is a poem in itself. I would never ever say Christina Rossetti when Christina Georgina Rossetti is so beautiful to say.
Thank-you, Kate for not omitting the Georgina.

Cindy Marsch said...

Thanks for setting us the challenge and opportunity! I was happy to drag out a not-too-dusty poem to share.