Tuesday, December 23, 2008


This poem by Olive Dove is in my Literary Reader and I love it.

Why are you always tagging on?

You ought to be dressing dolls
Like other sisters.

Dolls! You know I don’t like them.
Cold, stiff things lying so still.
Let’s go to the woods and climb trees.
The crooked elm is the best.
From the top you can see the river
And the old man hills,
Humped-backed and hungry
As ragged beggars.
In the day they seen small and far away
But at night they crowd closer
And stand like frowning giants.
Come on! What are you waiting for?

I have better things to do.

It’s wild in the woods today.
Rooks claw the air with their cackling.
The trees creak and sigh.
They say that long ago, slow Sam the woodcutter
Who liked to sleep in the hollow oak,
Was found dead there.
The sighing is his ghost, crying to come back.
Let’s go and hear it.

I hate the sound.

You mean you’re afraid?

Of course not.
Jim and I are going fishing.

Can I come too?

What do you know about fishing?
You're only a girl.