Poems of Walter de la Mare illustrated by Carolina Rabei

It time to talk about poetry.  When I was visiting a bookshop today and I spied a new poetry book that I would love to add to my collection.

I didn't think to check inside this splendid book but when I think of poetry for children the name Walter de la Mare would appear near the top of my list so I am thrilled to have discovered three wonderful books featuring his poems presented in single picture books with breathtaking illustrations by Carolina Rabei.  My favourite poetry book, which I have mentioned previously, The Walker Book of Poetry (or sometimes called The Random House book of Poetry), features five of his famous poems.

If you visit Carolina Rabei's web site you can see some of the pages from these three books. You might think adding these books to a library is an indulgence but all of them are available in paperback for a low price and sharing these book will enrich the lives of your students and teachers.

Summer Evening

The sandy cat by the Farmer's chair
Mews at his knee for dainty fare;
Old Rover in his moss-greened house
Mumbles a bone, and barks at a mouse;
In the dewy fields the cattle lie
Chewing the cud 'neath a fading sky;
Dobbin at manger pulls his hay:
Gone is another summer's day.

Silver

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 white breasts peep
Of doves in 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. 

Snow

No breath of wind,
No gleam of sun – 
Still the white snow
Whirls softly down
Twig and bough
And blade and thorn
All in an icy
Quiet, forlorn.
Whispering, rustling,
Through the air
On still and stone,
Roof, - everywhere,
It heaps its powdery
Crystal flakes,
Of every tree
A mountain makes;
‘Til pale and faint
At shut of day
Stoops from the West
One wint’ry ray,
And, feathered in fire
Where ghosts the moon,
A robin shrills
His lonely tune.