Saturday, January 29, 2011

Babies Don't Keep

As I'm reminiscing tonight about this weekend one year ago, this poem came to mind.  The twins' first year of life has flown so quickly.  I want to cherish each moment.

Babies Don't Keep

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, rockabye, 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, rockabye, 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.
~Author unknown


  1. I love love LOVE this! Even more so, that I know the sweet little angels who are Kanga and Roo.

  2. That's really cool.

    Since you listed the author as unknown, I went looking and found this:

    The author is apparently Ruth Hulburt Hamilton.