3 May poems / Annette Wynne

May

"Moon of Green Leaves," so
They called you long ago,
So the Indian child at play
Spoke your name, dear Month of May.


The First of May

If I could stay up late no doubt
I'd catch the buds just bursting out;
And up from every hidden root
Would jump a tiny slender shoot;
I wonder how seeds learn the way,
They always know the very day —
The pretty, happy first of May;
If I could stay up then, no doubt
I'd catch the buds just bursting out.


May Is Pretty, May Is Mild

May is pretty, May is mild,
Dances like a happy child;
Sing out, robin; spring out, flowers;
April went with all her showers,
And the world is green again;
Come out, children, to the glen,
To the meadows, to the wood,
For the earth is clean and good,
And the sky is clear and blue,
And bright May is calling you!

May is pretty. May is mild,
Dances like a happy child,
On a blessèd holiday.
Come out, children, join the play!

~~
Annette Wynne (1889-1952)

from For Days and Days: A year-round treasury of child verse, 1919

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and  the European Union]

[June]

Annette Wynne biography

Ettore Tito (1859-1941), Holiday, 1910 (detail). Wikimedia Commons.