HEERD 'bout what's happened? Why o' course ye has; Baby up at Battenberg's, Hope it tain't the las'! Doctor come at eight o'clock, Rig all spleshed with clay; Dad a trampin' up the hall, Skeery? -- I sh'd say! Kind o' still 'roun' the house, Folks on tiptoe walk Tell the door is open An' we hear a squawk! Doctor whispers suthin' -- Daddy hollers: "No!" Doctor says, "Twelve pounder!" Daddy whoops out: "Sho!" Daddy -- happier'n a clam! Mother doin' well; Baby up at Battenberg's, Haven't ye heerd tell? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ORANGE PICKER by DAVID IGNATOW VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS by GREGORY I TO A WESTERN BOY by WALT WHITMAN THE SUPLIANTS: IO. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS TWELVE SONNETS: 9. WEARINESS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) FOR STURDY FEET by A. DOROTHEA BATES DUSK ON ENGLISH BAY by EARL (EARLE) BIRNEY LARABELLE; CANTO THIRD by LEVI BISHOP THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 50. FAREWELL TO JULIET (12) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |