Little Orphant Annie
By James Whitcomb Riley
To all the little
children: The happy ones, and the sad ones,
The sober and the silent ones,
the boisterous and glad ones,
The good ones
Yes, the good ones, too, and all the lovely bad ones.
Little
orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash
the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo
the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth an' sweep,
An' make
the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all
us other children, when the supper-things is done,
We set
around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin'
to the witch-tales' at Annie tells about,
An' the
Gobbles-uns' at git you
Ef You
Don't
Watch
OUT!
Onc't
they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,
An' when
he went to bed at night, away upstairs,
His
Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when
they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!
An' they
seeked him in the rafter room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An'
seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever' wheres, I guess;
But all
they ever found wuz jist his pants an' roundabout:--
An' the
Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
OUT!
An' one
time a little girl' us allus laugh an' grin,
An' make
fun of ever'one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;
An'
wunst, when they was " company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She
mocked'em an' shocked'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' jist
as she kicked her hells, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz
two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they
snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the
Gobbles-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
OUT!
An'
little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An' the
lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you
hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the
lightnin'-bugs is dew is all squenched away,
You
better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond ann' dear,
An'
churish them as loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p
the pore an' needy ones' at clusters all about,
Er the
Gobble-uns'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
OUT!!!
Halloween
By Myra
Cohen Livingston
Green
cats eyes
in
midnight gloom
fly with
the witch
on her
ragged broom
over
dark hills where
bonfires
loom.
Ode to
a Scarecrow
By Beth
Howard
Oh, scarecrow standing in the
field
Great harborer, protector of the
yield.
All day long and all night too,
You stand there watching oh, so
true.
The sun shines down on your rosey
cheeks,
Your brimless hat's been torn for
weeks.
The farmer's at ease with you as
his guard,
Chasing the crows from the old
barnyard.
Though you are humbled by your
rags,
The patched plaid shirt and the
pants that sag;
Stately you stand amidst the corn
Never uttering so much as a scorn.
The rain pelts you with damp and
wet;
The cold wind blows making you
shiver, and yet
You stand there loyal, your duty
dost call
Your silhouette we witness proud
and tall.
Your friends be the butterflies
who light on your arms,
And the mice in your coat hiding
from harms.
The dew on your figure greets you
each morn.
We admire you oh, great sentinel
of the corn.
(Author Unknown)
The angriest wind blew through
today;
It banged the shutters
And tore away shingles and
branches,
And with a whoop,
It blew off the roof of the
chicken coop.
Then slammed the gate,
And whirled down the lane,
And all that was left
Was the quiet rain.