The Little Land

When at home alone I sit

And am very tired of it,

I have just to shut my eyes

To go sailing through the skies–

To go sailing far away

To the pleasant land of play;

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To the fairy land afar

Where the little people are;

Where the clover-tops are trees,

And the rain pools are the seas,

And the leaves like little ships

Sail about on tiny trips;

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And above the daisy tree

Through the grasses,

High o’erhead the Bumble Bee

Hums and passes.

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In that forest to and fro

I can wander, I can go;

See the spider and the fly,

And the ants go marching by

Carrying parcels with their feet

Down the green and grassy street.

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I can in the sorrel sit

Where the ladybird alit.

I can climb the jointed grass;

And on high

See the greater swallows pass

In the sky,

And the round sun rolling by

Heeding no such things as I.

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Through that forest I can pass

Till, as in a looking-glass,

Humming fly and daisy tree

And my tiny self I see,

Painted very clear and neat

On the rain-pool at my feet.

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Should a leaflet come to land

Drifting near to where I stand,

Straight I’ll board that tiny boat

Round the rain-pool sea to float.

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Little thoughtful creatures sit

On the grassy coasts of it;

Little things with lovely eyes

See me sailing with surprise.

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Some are clad in armour green–

(These have sure to battle been!) —

Some are pied with ev’ry hue,

Black and crimson, gold and blue;

Some have wings and swift are gone;-

But they all look kindly on.

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When my eyes I once again

Open, and see all things plain;

High bare walls, great bare floor;

Great big knobs on drawer and door;

Great big people perched on chairs,

Stitching tucks and mending tears,

Each a hill that I could climb,

And talking nonsense all the time–

O dear me,

That I could be.

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A sailor on the rain-pool sea,

A climber in the clover tree,

And just come back, a sleepy-head,

Late at night to go to bed.

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-Robert Louis Stevenson

If you take a peek through my photos you will often see an old book, weathered and worn, with a dark green cover. The book is, A Child’s Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson, and it is one of my greatest treasures. It belonged to my grandma Ruth. She read it to my father when he was young, and then to me. Once during a visit, she handed the book to me and said “it is yours now”. I often think that it was those poems, and all their talk of fairies and little lands that instilled in me a desire to create such tiny beings.

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18 thoughts on “The Little Land

  1. What an amazing, beautiful land this would be to visit! It very much puts me in mind of the R L Stevenson poem ‘The Land of Counterpane’, which always conjured such wonderful images in my head. I still have my childhood copy of the book and remember several of the poems off by heart. You have created a great tribute through your inspirational work 🙂

    • Thank you Lynda! This one,’ The Little Land’ and’ The Land of Counterpane’ are two of my favorites. I also love ‘My Kingdom’….This was the world and I was king; For me the bees came by to sing, For me the swallows flew.

      Reading these poems conjures such wonderful childhood memories for me….makes my heart happy!

  2. Hi since I am new to your site, I:m not sure if you send these out for fun )which they definitely are or are they for sale? sj

  3. I just discovered your page on face book and then was pleased to see that you have started a blog here on word press! 🙂 I have just started to blog here also! Your work is beautiful! I love the little mouse in his bed tucked into the book! What lovely worlds you can create! Look forward to following along 🙂

  4. Perfection! The poem, the photos, the little people, everything is so dear and wonderful
    Must be so nice to go to sleep in a little bed in a book with verses all around you
    I’m so glad I found your blog
    Amalia
    xo

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