Middle school poetry

Middle school poetry (ages eight to eleven), transcribed with difficulty from a pencilled notebook rapidly becoming illegible.

Not my most shining years, I think; it starts off juvenile and tends to the pretentious, although at least I was precocious in my timing. To judge by the effusions of fanfiction.net, most people go through this stage in their teens...

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The rails are humming:
A train is coming.
The rails are singing:
Another train's bringing
Thousands of people
All out for some fun
And back they'll come again
When the day's done.

(I do actually vaguely remember that one!)

Walking in the country lanes
In between the hedgerows
Strolling through the flowery woods
'Mong lots of lovely flowers.

Hear the skylark singing
High up in the heavens
See the sheep all running
With the tails swinging behind.

(That dates it -- they all have their tails docked nowadays! Also... 'mong. Ouch.)
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