Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing,
Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea.
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
And waves are on the meadow like the waves then are at sea.
Where shall we adventure, to-day that we ‘re afloat, vary of the weather and steering by a star ?
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar?
Hi! but here’s a squadron a-rowing on the sea-
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar !
Quick, and we ‘II escape them, they ‘re as mad as they can be,
The wicket is the harbour and the garden is the shore.
This poem by Robert Louis Stevenson is a favorate of mine because its a reminder of my childhood. Memories of blowing clothes in the wind like sails and imagining the moving grass was the waves of a sea comes flooding back when I read it. My goal was to show the movement of the wind and the warmth of the sun lighting up the boy’s imagination in the story.
