ALL Saturday the sky was clear, But now again that Monday's here It snows; and through the window glass We see the flying snowflakes pass. The teacher never seems to know The fun it is to have the snow; She thinks that we can sit and think, And write long words with pen and ink, And listen well to three times three, And be as quiet as can be, And never once peep out around To see how much stays on the ground. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS WRITTEN WHILE TRAVELING...A MIDWESTERN HEAT WAVE by JAMES GALVIN LOST ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON HERO-WORSHIP; SONNET by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELIZABETH CHILDERS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |