I was doing some reading over the weekend, in between

• requests that the lounge cushions be reassembled,
• sloppy wet kisses,
• scolding for mud-throwing,
• praising for sharing,
• cuddles,
• fetching drinks,
• tickles,
• orders to clean up lego now please,
• cleaning up spilt drinks,
• smiling at silly jokes and…

Well, you get the picture.

And I fell in love with this beautiful poem.

Song for a Fifth Child

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.

Only, I needed just the two babies to become the mother whose house is so shocking.

No related posts.