Friday, June 21, 2013

A favorite summer poem.

Bed in Summer

by Robert Louis Stevenson
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

Do you know this?  I bet you do.
It was one of the few poems I memorized and said to my children.
I wonder if they remember this?

DSC_1486-8 copy

Welcome Summer!
Bring it on.



  1. What a fun poem!

    Continuing our conversation from yesterday about Alaska :-) Today is their longest day (and everybody else's!)

    The sun rose in Anchorage at 4:20 a.m. and will set at 11:43 p.m. (the sky will stay a lovely blue twilighty color and it won't ever get truly dark).

    Happily they have mostly clear skies today so they can really enjoy this long lovely day. (And their temps have gone down to 67F)

    Just call me your Swiss-Alaskan Weather Girl :-)

    1. Anonymous7:57 PM

      {{{**}}} LIKE! jep

  2. It is grey on our longest day.
    So wrong.

    1. It's overcast and pale gray outside here too :-/

    2. It's HOT, with a high of 96 at 6pm!!
      I love summer (and that poem!), but this is a ridiculous way to start it...

  3. Anonymous11:21 AM

    I've never heard of that poem before. I did just have to explain to Sophia the other night why it was still daylight out at bedtime.
    Yay for Summer!! Woo hoo!! The lightening bugs are out now. : )

    Sarah P. from Iowa

    1. Lightening jealous. As a girl I thought California was the dumbest place to live. No snow in winter, no lightening bugs in summer. All the best books had those as staples of childhood!


  4. Anonymous11:28 AM

    It's a grey day here, too. Poor Molly is doing a Relay for Life from 6pm today until 6am tomorrow and it appears they may get rained on. Boo.

    Love the poem! And the photo of your girls. Happy longest day to all, even if it's not the weather we would have handpicked! :)

    Mary Z

  5. Go Molly!!! It's gonna clear up for her race!!! I know it!

  6. 15 hours of light today... And I'm in a sweaty gym in south central Wisconsin. #notright

  7. I love Robert Louis Stevenson's poems.

    It is a spectacular day here in northern Jersey. After all the rain we have had this spring, today is a glorious day!

  8. I love this poem. Love this photo. Perfect!

  9. It's perfect weather here! John and Brennan just left on a three day canoe trek so Claire and I are on our own!!! We had planned to head to do a college campus visit and hit up a little French cafe downtown...and now her face is swollen up and we have to visit the oral surgeon )-: We're so disappointed and hoping that it doesn't mean anything serious. Wah.

    "Summer breeze, makes me feel fine!" Name that band!


    1. Seals & Croft. From the soundtrack of my youth :-)

      bless Claire's heart. I'm sad for you both.

    2. Anonymous7:59 PM

      Praying for Claire and her dilemma.
      God please heal her and help the swelling to go down. Amen
      Hope you still get to go on the visit. love and prayers, jep

  10. Anonymous8:00 PM

    Lovely poem and photograph of your girls.
    love and prayers, jep

  11. I hope you are feeling better dear Jep.

    1. Sending some of that love and prayers over to you jep <3

    2. Anonymous11:35 AM

      On our second bottle of medicine, surely we will feel better soon. Thank you dear friends for your caring thoughts. love and prayers, jep

  12. My Mom read Robert Lewis Stevenson. My favorite poet. :)

  13. This comment has been removed by the author.

    1. Hey! Where did that lovely poem go?

    2. reposting - a couple of the lines were not in the right position ;-\

  14. Bring it on is right!!
    THat poem is new to me Donna Boo...I Love it!

  15. Summer in the South

    The oriole sings in the greening grove
    As if he were half-way waiting,
    The rosebuds peep from their hoods of
    Timid and hesitating.

    The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
    And the nights smell warm and piney,
    The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
    Are yellow-green and tiny.
    Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
    Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
    The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
    And the woods run mad with riot.

    Paul Laurence Dunbar
    1872 - 1906


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