Kite Days
A kite, a sky, and a good firm breeze,
And acres of ground away from trees,
And one hundred yards of clean, strong string --
O boy, O boy! I call that Spring!
-by Mark Sawyer
March Wind
We made a brand-new kite today,
And soon as we were through
We came out here to fly it,
And the wind just blew and blew.
And now the kite's a tiny speck;
We've used up all the string;
I'd like to go and get some more.
Anne's such a tiny thing
To hold the kite all by herself;
I wouldn't let her try,
For fear I might look back and see
Anne sailing through the sky.
- Eleanor Dennis
Kite Song
All the other seasons
Added up together
Never can compare
With kite-flying weather!
Like a bird skimming
Across the blue sky,
My kite travels swiftly -
Beautiful and high!
The cord often runs
Stinging through my hand,
As my bird soars higher,
Higher o'er the land!
But all too soon twilight
Lowers on the town,
And I must haul my bird
Down, down, down!
-Elaine V. Emans
A Kite
I often sit and wish that I
Could be a kite up in the sky,
And ride upon the wind and go
Whichever way I chanced to blow.
-author unknown
Being a Kite
If I were a kite
I'd kneel,
stretch my skinny arms
out wide,
and wait for wind.
My yellow shirt would
fill up like a sail
and flap,
tugging my criss-crossed
wooden bones and me
towards seas of cloud.
My rippling paper skin
would rustle like applause
as I inhaled,
gulping one last gust
to swoop me giddy-quick
above the trees.
My red rag tail
would drift
toward everything green
to balance me
so all day
I could
loop and climb
loop and climb
and
soar
into pure sky.
