By day you cannot see the sky there again. They seem just like old friends to me, I've known them all my life you see. There is the dipper first, and there Is Cassiopeia in her chair, Orion's belt, the Milky Way, And lots I know but cannot say. One group looks like a swarm of bees, Papa says they're the Pleiades; But I think they must be the toy Of some nice little angel boy. Perhaps his jackstones which to-day He has forgot to put away, And left them lying on the sky Where he will find them bye and bye. I wish he'd come and play with me. We'd have such fun, for it would be A most unusual thing for boys To feel that they had stars for toys! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ADOLF EICHMANN by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE GREAT DEATH by HAYDEN CARRUTH SELF-ANALYSIS by DAVID IGNATOW RECOMPENSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |