Friday, September 14, 2007

I am Christopher Robin

Or at least I've felt remarkably like him for the past few days.

Sneezles

Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
They examined his chest
For a rash,
And the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.

A.A. Milne

It continues, but it's a rather long poem, so I'll just say if you want to read the whole thing, find a copy of Now We are Six, which also contains such gems as "Solitude," "King John's Christmas,' and "The Knight Whose Armour Didn't Squeak."

And that's Friday Poetry

1 comment:

cloudscome said...

I hope you are soon feeling better! Do you have a Pooh with you? Things are always better with two, you know!

My mother was telling me she read "Jonathan Jo had a mouth like an O..." and "John had great, big waterproof boots on...," yesterday to my middle son. We love Milne!