Journey With Story


Journey With Story


Potpourri of Poems E:182

A Pot Pourri

 Potpourri of Poems E:182

A selection of poems sure to delight listeners of all ages and a great way to celebrate the beauty of poetry and maybe even lull you off to sleep.

-The Wind and the Moon by George MacDonald

-City Mouse and Country Mouse by Richard Scrafton Sharpe

-The Lake Isle of Innisfree by W.B. Yeats

-Caterpillar by Christina Rosetti

-Is the Moon Tired? by Christina Rosetti

An episode from storytelling podcast, Journey with Story for kids ages 4-10.  (duration 15 minutes)

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Celebrate National Poetry Month with this Potpourri of Poems

Potpourri of Poems

E182 – April 7, 2022 

-The Wind and the Moon 

-Country Mouse and City Mouse 

-The Lake Isle of Innisfree 


-Is the Moon Tired? 


Do you know what the word potpourri means?  Yes – I bet some of you know that it means a mixture of spices or flower petals that people put in a little bowl to make a room smell nice. But it also has another meaning-wonder if any of you know what the other meaning is? 


Hello everyone I ‘m Kathleen Pelley. Welcome to Journey with Story. Today I will be sharing a potpourri of poems.  Can you guess that other meaning now?  Yes, it can also mean a mixture of or a selection of…stories or songs or whatever.  And since April is National Poetry Month here in America, I am going to share with you a potpourri of poems. 


Before we begin – big shout out to Madeline age 6  who sent me a fabulous drawing of The King Has Horse’s Ears that is E5 of our podcast.  Madeline thank you so much for this drawing.  


Also, a huge thanks to all of our listeners in South Africa, Portugal, and Namibia, where we were recently ranked #1 in Educational Podcasts –  


Now let’s take a Journey with- A Potpourri of poems. 





The wind and the Moon by George MacDonald 


Said the Wind to the Moon, “I will blow you out; 

You stare 

In the air 

Like a ghost in a chair, 

Always looking what I am about — 

I hate to be watched; I’ll blow you out.” 


The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon. 

So, deep 

On a heap 

Of clouds to sleep, 

Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon, 

Muttering low, “I’ve done for that Moon.” 


He turned in his bed; she was there again! 

On high 

In the sky, 

With her one ghost eye, 

The Moon shone white and alive and plain. 

Said the Wind, “I will blow you out again.” 


The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim. 

“With my sledge, 

And my wedge, 

I have knocked off her edge! 

If only I blow right fierce and grim, 

The creature will soon be dimmer than dim.” 


He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread. 

“One puff 

More’s enough 

To blow her to snuff! 

One good puff more where the last was bred, 

And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread.” 


He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone. 

In the air 


Was a moonbeam bare; 

Far off and harmless the shy stars shone — 

Sure and certain the Moon was gone! 


The Wind he took to his revels once more; 

On down, 

In town, 

Like a merry—mad clown, 

He leaped and hallooed with whistle and roar — 

“What’s that?” The glimmering thread once more! 


He flew in a rage — he danced and blew; 

But in vain 

Was the pain 

Of his bursting brain; 

For still the broader the Moon—scrap grew, 

The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew. 


Slowly she grew — till she filled the night, 

And shone 

On her throne 

In the sky alone, 

A matchless, wonderful silvery light, 

Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night. 


Said the Wind: “What a marvel of power am I! 

With my breath, 

Good faith! 

I blew her to death — 

First blew her away right out of the sky — 

Then blew her in; what strength have I! 


But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair; 

For high 

In the sky, 

With her one white eye, 

Motionless, miles above the air, 

She had never heard the great Wind blare 


I bet that poem must have painted some great pictures in your mind – would love to see some drawings of what you think this big bully Wind looks like trying to blow away the lovely moon.   


Now here’s a poem about two very different mice – called  

Country Mouse and City Mouse by Richard Scrafton Sharpe 

In a snug little cot lived a fat little mouse, 
Who enjoyed, unmolested, the range of the house; 
With plain food content, she would breakfast on cheese, 
She dined upon bacon, and supped on grey peas. 

A friend from the town to the cottage did stray, 
And he said he was come a short visit to pay; 
So the mouse spread her table as gay as you please, 
And brought the nice bacon and charming grey peas. 

The visitor frowned, and he thought to be witty: 
Cried he, ” You must know, I am come from the city, 
Where we all should be shocked at provisions like these, 
For we never eat bacon and horrid grey peas. 

” To town come with me, I will give you a treat: 
Some excellent food, most delightful to eat. 
With me shall you feast just as long as you please; 
Come, leave this fat bacon and shocking grey peas. 
This kind invitation she could not refuse, 
And the city mouse wished not a moment to lose; 
Reluctant she quitted the fields and the trees, 
The delicious fat bacon and charming grey peas. 

They slily crept under a gay parlour door, 
Where a feast had been given the evening before; 
And it must be confessed they on dainties did seize, 
Far better than bacon, or even grey peas. 

Here were custard and trifle, and cheesecakes good store, 
Nice sweetmeats and jellies, and twenty things more; 
All that art had invented the palate to please, 
Except some fat bacon and smoking grey peas.  



They were nicely regaling, when into the room 
Came the dog and the cat, and the maid with a broom: 
They jumped in a custard both up to their knees; 
The country mouse sighed for her bacon and peas. 

Cried she to her friend, ” Get me safely away, 
I can venture no longer in London to stay; 
For if oft you receive interruptions like these, 
Give me my nice bacon and charming grey peas. 

” Your living is splendid and gay, to be sure, 
But the dread of disturbance you ever endure; 
I taste true delight in contentment and ease, 
And I feast on fat bacon and charming grey peas.” 


What do you think – would you rather be the city mouse and eat delicious food every day, but  always have to watch out for the dangers of cat or dog or broom, or would you prefer to eat more simply but live in peace and safety?  Might make for a good discussion with your friends or parents. 



Our next poem is from a wonderful Irish Poet called William B. Yeats and the poem is called  


Lake Isle of Innisfree 

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade. 


And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings. 


I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core 



Caterpillar by Christina Rosetti 


Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry,
Take your walk
To the shady leaf, or stalk,
Or what not,
Which may be the chosen spot.
No toad spy you,
Hovering bird of prey pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly. 



Is The Moon Tired? By Christina Rosetti 


Is the moon tired? she looks so pale 

Within her misty veil: 

She scales the sky from east to west, 

And takes no rest. 


Before the coming of the night 

The moon shows papery white; 

Before the dawning of the day 

She fades away. 

Did you have a favorite poem from this pot-pourri?  Remember you can send us your drawings on IG @journeywithstory or go to our website and send it there at 


Cheerio then, join me next time for Journey with Story 

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