There are the muffins we hoped would be
And the plates of honey and cheese.
We may have milk in our little blue jugs
As much as ever we please.
Oh, we were hungry up in the hall,
Hungry as children can be;
Often we called from the stairs to ask:
“When is it time for tea?”
The candles shine with a yellow light
And our shadows are big on the wall;
Out in the dark the wind rides past
With a “Happy good-night!” to all.
UMBRELLAS
People on a rainy day
Look like mushrooms, strange to say,
And their round umbrella tops
Gleam among the falling drops;
Little mushrooms grow in clumps,
Round the feet of mossy stumps,
Large ones wander up and down
Through the streets of Rainy-town.
