If that's a cherub, I don't see why They ever should call me one: My face ain't round like an apple pie, An' I have n't a couple of wings to fly, But legs that 'll jump an' run. If that's a cherub, it seems to me, There's nicer things that a boy could be. If cherubs are really made just so, Then how can they ever play? There is n't a place but clouds to go, Or just keep fluttering to and fro, Or stand on their chins all day. I s'pose it's easy to soil a cloud, And people with feet are not allowed. If I was really a cherub, though, 'T would be sort of fun to fly. And parents would n't keep teasing so If I'd been out in the rain or snow, To see if my feet was dry. And if I ate loads of pie and cake, Then all outdoors could have stomach ache. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I COULD TAKE by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO NANNETTE FALK-AUERBACH by SIDNEY LANIER MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HILDRUP TUBBS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 8 by EZRA POUND DEDICATION TO THE LATER SONNETS TO URANIA by GEORGE SANTAYANA MANOKWARI, IRIAN JAYA; IN MEMORIAM, ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE by KAREN SWENSON |