WHEN mother comes each morning She wears her oldest things, She doesn't make a rustle, She hasn't any rings; She says, "Good morning, chickies, It's such a lovely day, Let's go into the garden And have a game of play:" When mother comes at tea-time Her dress goes shoo-shoo-shoo, She always has a little bag, Sometimes a sunshade too; She says, "I am so hoping There's something left for me; Please hurry up, dear Nanna, I'm dying for my tea." When mother comes at bed-time Her evening dress she wears, She tells us each a story When we have said our prayers; And if there is a party She looks so shiny bright It's like a lovely fairy Dropped in to say good-night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CITY ROOFS by CHARLES HANSON TOWNE OF MAN'S MORTALITY by SIMON WASTELL TO AN ISLE IN THE WATER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS NO MARVEL IS IT by BERNART DE VENTADORN WHEN I WAS A REFUGEE by BEATRICE JEAN K. BOROFF KNOW THYSELF by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE OF ONE REMEMBERED by ELIZABETH COPMANN ON MADAN'S ANSWER TO NEWTON'S COMMENTS ON THELYPHTORA by WILLIAM COWPER |