The Watcher Poem

The Watcher” by Margaret Widdermer She always leaned to watch for us Anxious if we were late, In winter by the window, In summer by the gate. And though we mocked her tenderly, Who had such foolish care, The long way home would seem more safe, Because she waited there. Her thoughts were all so full of us, She never could forget, And so I think that where she is She must be watching yet. Waiting ’til we come home to her Anxious if we are late Watching from Heaven’s window Leaning from Heaven’s gate

Stopping By The Woods on a Snowy Evening f by Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer 5 To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. 10 The only other sounds the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, 15 And miles to go before I sleep. Summary

Silver by Walter de la Mare Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees; One by one the casements catch Her beams beneath the silvery thatch; Couched in his kennel, like a log, With paws of silver sleeps the dog; From their shadowy cote the shite breasts peep Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep; A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws, and silver eye; And moveless fish in the water gleam, By silver reeds in a silver stream.