Thursday, March 10, 2011

Song for a Fifth Child, by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton, 1958

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown 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 her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For 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.

I'm sure a lot of you have read this poem, but I came across it again today and had to post it. It's so beautifully written and so heartbreakingly true.

 I could swear this picture was taken last week and not almost two years ago. In the blink of an eye..

1 comment:

  1. Beautifully true poem! I had not heard it before, so thanks for sharing!