The book of children’s poems I mentioned yesterday burned in the fire, but Andy and I still remember two of the poems. (I needed to look up the exact wording, of course).
The first poem is Hiding by Dorothy Keeley Aldis:
I’m hiding, I’m hiding
And no one knows where;
For all they can see is my
Toes and my hairAnd I just heard my father
Say to my mother –
“But, darling, he must be
Somewhere or other;Have you looked in the inkwell?”
And Mother said, “Where?”
“In the INKWELL?”said Father. But
I was not there.Then “Wait!” cried my mother —
“I think that I see
Him under the carpet.” But
It was not me.“Inside the mirror’s
A pretty good place.”
Said Father and looked, but saw
Only his face.“We’ve hunted,” sighed Mother,
“As hard as we could
And I am so afraid that we’ve
Lost him for good.”Then I laughed out aloud
And I wiggled my toes
And Father said —”Look, dear,
I wonder if thoseToes could be Benny’s?
There are ten of them, see?”
And they WERE so surprised to find
Out it was me!
The other is The King’s Breakfast by By A. A. Milne:
The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
“Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?”
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid,
The Dairymaid
Said, “Certainly,
I’ll go and tell
The cow
Now
Before she goes to bed.”The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told
The Alderney:
“Don’t forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread.”The Alderney
Said sleepily:
“You’d better tell
His Majesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead.”The Dairymaid
Said, “Fancy!”
And went to
Her Majesty.
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
“Excuse me,
Your Majesty,
For taking of
The liberty,
But marmalade is tasty, if
It’s very
Thickly
Spread.”The Queen said
“Oh!”
And went to
His Majesty:
“Talking of the butter for
The Royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?”The King said,
“Bother!”
And then he said,
“Oh, dear me!”
The King sobbed, “Oh, deary me!”
And went back to bed.
“Nobody,”
He whimpered,
“Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!”The Queen said,
“There, there!”
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, “There, there!”
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
“There, there!
I didn’t really
Mean it;
Here’s milk for his porringer
And butter for his bread.”The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
“Butter, eh?”
And bounced out of bed.
“Nobody,” he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
“Nobody,” he said,
As he slid down
The banisters,
“Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man—
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!”
They still make us smile after all these years. Can you remember anything that tickled your funny bone 35 or so years ago?
October 22, 2014
Our son, nieces and children of friends used to sing and demonstrate:
The link did not publish. It is this http://youtu.be/4vhPnKQG5Nc
I remember that one from Kaitlin’s childhood, too.
Glad to hear Andy’s doing well. (Have you looked at Gawande’s new book, Being Mortal? Really good stuff about aging well.)
What about this poem:
God made the lovely trees and hills
The fragrant flowers and shining lakes.
Of course he made mosquitoes too
But everybody makes mistakes.
I’ve misquoted it a bit, Andy can you remember the original?
Andy doesn’t, but it’s from the Cheerful Cherub, of course:
My favorite from that book is
Andy says he remembers the last two lines, and it’s still one of his favorites. 🙂
Yes, when I was, oops – long time back – I dispatched for law enforcement. Had a patrolman, on foot, chasing a man who had broken into a building. After a few minutes the officer came on the radio and I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. He was hysterical so I sent backup. Later he told me that the man he was chasing on foot kept looking back to see if the officer was gaining on him, when suddenly he ran into a telephone pole – knocked him out cold! Every time the officer keyed his mike to tell me he had the subject in custody – he lost it, laughing. Certainly painted a picture in my mind, that I’ll never forget.
What a great story! Thanks. 😀
i love those poems!!!
especially the poor king. just a simple man who wanted butter for his bread. LOLOL.
my entire life… my gram called it porridge. even now i don’t ever call it oatmeal or cream of wheat… or whatever. it’s simply porridge. it delights me. and it keeps her close.
my favorite poem as a little girl was … ‘there are faeries at the bottom of my garden.’
i used to know the whole thing by heart. it’s a beautiful poem.
Is this it? I Googled it:
Both of those are wonderful, and I’m astounded that you can both remember them from so long ago. Thank you for the big smile.
We remembered the gist of the poems — Google provided the exact words. Yay, Google!
so cute…
now I must post something on my blog…something fantastic as my niece has just written in an email to me 🙂
I’m looking forward to reading it!
I just read your latest post. Yay, Cathy! I’m so happy for you.
YES!!!
that’s it! i always found it enchanting as a child. i still do.
thanks my monk! thanks! xo?
even as i read it here… i found myself transported into my gram’s four poster bed in new york on a cold night… the lamp beside the bed lighted… and i’m all tucked in and reading that poem… yet once again! wonderful memories here.
I’m so glad you liked it. I was tickled that Google could find it for us. 🙂