Poems

Counting Little Sheep

I am a little lamb,
A little lamb that's what I am.

My mother is an ewe
(Oh, and you'd love her too!)

Daddy is a big ram.
Me? I'm still a little lamb.

When I go to sleep
I count little sheep.

Tiny ones, just like me -
Lambkins…one…two…three

Gabriel Rosenstock

Bravery

The cow in the meadow
Looks sideways at me
But what do I care?
With my chin in the air.
I stare at the stile,
Or a cloud, or a tree,
When the cow in the meadow
Looks sideways at me.

The cow in the meadow
Is not more than three
And you're not very bold
When you aren't very old.
So I musn't alarm her
She's timid, you see,
And that's why she always
Looks sideways at me.

She gives me milk
And my butter for tea
"Git on!" says John.
And at once she gits on
And I stick to the footpath
As brave as can be
When the cow in the meadow
Looks sideways at me.

Eleanor Farjeon

Na hAinmhithe

Féach ar na hainmhithe
Amuigh faoin spéir,
Ag rith is ag léim
Is ag ithe an fhéir.

Ní féidir leo léamh,
Ní féidir leo scríobh,
Ní thagann said ar scoil,
Níor tháinig ariamh.

Ach bíonn said sásta
An bhliain go léir
Amuigh sa pháirc
Ag ithe an fhéir.

C. Mac Lochlainn

A Little Talk

The big brown hen and Mrs. Duck
Went walking out together;
They talked about all sorts of things
The farmyard, and the weather,
But all I heard was: "Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!"
And "Quack! Quack! Quack!" from Mrs. Duck.

Anonymous

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