Babies Don't Keep

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

A Poem For Parents

There are little eyes upon you,

And they are watching night and day;

There are little ears that quickly

Take in every word you say.

There are little hands all eager

To do everything you do;

and a little boy who's dreaming

Of the day he'll be like you.

You're the little fellow's idol;

You're the wisest of the wise;

In his little mind, about you

No suspicions ever rise.

He believes in you devotedly,

Holds that all you say and do,

He will say and do in your way

When he's grown up like you.

There's a wide-eyed little fellow

Who believes you're always right;

And his ears are always open,

And he watches day and night.

You are setting an example

Every day in all you do;

For the little boy who's waiting

To grow up to be just like you.

Author Unknown