Poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson

 I have never been a big fan of serious poetry. Sure I like funny word-play poems, or silly poems about made-up subjects, but I just have always had a hard time getting interested in poetry that was written to be taken seriously. This book was the one exception to that rule. My grandmother bought it for me when I was very little. I think it was the beautiful illustrations that drew me in at first. Donna Green creating wonderfully realistic paintings of children to complement Robert Louis Stevenson's poems about childhood.

Robert Louis Stevenson first published the poems included in this book in 1885. Since then, they have appeared in many different editions, but I have yet to find another version with more detailed or whimsical illustrations.

His fanciful poems explore the world of childhood make-believe from many angles. There are poems about the ocean, poems about pirates, poems about bedtime, and ships, and fairies, and kingdoms made out of blocks. Perhaps my favorite poem of all time is found on page 54, titled, "Bed in Summer":

"In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candlelight.
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 in 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?"

This poem is accompanied by a warm-feeling illustration of a little boy and girl curled up in a canopy bed looking at a book, while outside the snow is furiously falling. This is just one of many examples of the great poems that can be found in this book.

Because the poems play with language, I probably would not introduce more than one poem every few days to my class, but I do think that this book could be used to explore serious poetry that is relevant to my students. Most of the poems are either about the different seasons, or about childhood make-believe.

However, I will leave you with a poem that might appeal more to older readers who have already left their childhood behind. This one is entitled,

"To Any Reader":

As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.

He does not hear; he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.