mother goose | Good to be Home

“Sometimes,’ said Pooh, ‘the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” A.A. Milne

“What day is it?”
It’s today,” squeaked Piglet.
My favorite day,” said Pooh.” A.A. Milne

A.A. Milne, the author of our beloved Winnie the Pooh stories, knew how to think and write with the honest beauty of an innocent child. We love his books, I think, for this reason.

Milne is a favorite, however my house is also scattered all over with Mother Goose nursery rhyme books. If you find yourself in one of those “I just can’t do this any more” moods, read them Mother Goose like my mother did for her children, and my grandmother did for her children. You’ll be uplifted in no time when you are singing all ten verses of London Bridge, and reading silly, surprising little poems that the books are full of, like:

There once were two cats of Kilkenny,
Each thought there was one cat too many;
So they fought and they fit,
And they scratched and they bit,
Till, excepting their nails
And the tips of their tails
Instead of two cats, there weren’t any.

Some of the rhymes are like proverbs, presenting childhood wisdom in a light and fun way.

An apple a day
Sends the doctor away.

Apple in the morning,
Doctor’s warning.

Roast apple at night,
Starves the doctor outright.

Eat an apple going to bed,
Knock the doctor on the head.

Three each day, seven days a week,
Ruddy apple, ruddy cheek.

In the spirit of A.A. Milne, and Mother Goose I would like to share a few little pieces of our own.

They are the words of my two youngest children (they spoke them to me without knowing they were poetry, and I wrote them down.)

“The richest child sits on a poor mother’s lap”, Jacob Simmon Kever (1854-1922)

Seth’s Lap Poem, by Seth

Mother
I want to stay on your lap
Forever
Until the day is over
Until I am grown up
Until I am growned up
When I can read.

Seth’s Mother Goose rhyme, by Seth aged 5

Mother, Mother?
Are you rich?
Do you have
Many money?

Sarah’s Onion Poem, by Sarah aged 3

Mom?
Is this corn?
No. It’s an onion.
An onion! You can tell me the truth you know, is it really corn?
No. It’s an onion.
What is this?
That is it’s skin.
And where are it’s eyes?

Aren’t they fantastic? If you listen closely, I bet the children in your life communicate in poetry, too!

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