Children of the Artist by Borie Kustodiev
As we move toward the Summer Solstice which falls on June 20 this year, I find myself leaning into the loveliness of the long days, late evening dusks and sitting on the porch watching the fireflies emerge. When I was young, I remember feeling strongly that it was quite unfair to have to go to bed while it was still light out. Growing up at a camp, there were always children playing just under my window, it seemed. How could I be expected to sleep? I guess I wasn't the only child to feel this way...

Bed in Summer
Robert Lewis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

An early edition of A Child's Garden of Verse can be viewed as a virtual book at a website dedicated to the life and works of Robert Lewis Stevenson (here).

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