Thursday, November 17, 2011

babies don't keep

My friend Allison sent me this fun and true poem about motherhood. I feel better about my dirty house now!

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,
Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby 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?
Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby 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.


~ Ruth Hulbert Hamilton

3 comments:

diana onorio funk said...

beautiful -- and what perspective! isn't it amazing? i look at my 5-year-old, all long limbs and pretty hair, talking in sophisticated sentences, and i wonder where my baby went.

Aimee @ Smiling Mama said...

Yep.

Amy Hill said...

I LOVE that! Thanks for sharing!