Babies Donít Keep
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
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?
Sheís up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, Iíve 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 shoppingís not done and thereís nothing for stew
And out in the yard thereís a hullabaloo
But Iím playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Arenít his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as Iíve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
Iím rocking my baby and babies donít keep.
Holly, married to my wonderful DH 7-28-06 Mama to The Bear, 9/11.
Doin' the (coo coo) pigeon... or swagbucks, or, perhaps even plink.