I read this poem on this blog I really like today, and I think it's a wonderful reminder. I'm so grateful for all the sitting and rocking I did over the past three years...and now, so much for the vacuuming; I think I'll go back out and play in the snow.
Song for a Fifth Child
by Ruth Hurlburt Hamilton (1958)
Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
My mom had the last stanza of that poem on a little wall hanging in the kitchen when I was growing up but I'd never read the rest of it. It makes me feel a little weepy...
wow - i love it. i am posting it to my FB. might even cross stitch it, if i can find the time to stop rocking (or facebooking!)
it's going on my facebook too!
No, they don't. Oh, no they don't keep.
Post a Comment