Poetry Friday: Knights and Dragons

Lego KnightI’ve been reading stories about dragons lately and it reminded me of a poem from Now We Are Six by A. A. Milne. It’s just such a cute poem about a little kid playing at being a knight and fighting dragons that I couldn’t resist sharing it! The Lego knight seemed the perfect image to pair with it somehow (but that may just be me wishing I still had Legos to play with).


Whenever I’m a shining Knight,
I buckle on my armor tight;
And then I look about for things,
Like Rushings-Out, and Rescuings,
And Savings from the Dragon’s Lair,
And fighting all the Dragons there.
And sometimes when our fights begin,
I think I’ll let the Dragons win…
And then I think perhaps I won’t,
Because they’re Dragons, and I don’t.

Have fun slaying dragons (or making friends with them!) today! The round-up is over at Chicken Spaghetti today, so go check it out!

poetry friday button

Poetry Friday: Kissing Day!

Scottish DancersToday is Kissing Day, so I decided I had to share a poem about kissing! In digging through my books of poetry the one the most amused me was by Robert Burns, a Scottish poet. It sounded to me like a song and I have a serious weakness for celtic-style songs, so I decided to share it. I hope you like it too!

Kissing My Kate

O, merry hae I been teethin a heckle
An merry hae I been shapin a spoon!
O, merry hae I been cloutin a kettle,
An kissin my Katie when a’ was done!
O, a’ the lang day I ca’ at my hammer,
An a’ the lang day I whistle and sing!
O, a’ the lang night as happy’s a king!
Bitter in dool, I lickit my winnins
O marrying Bess, to gie her a slave:
Blest be the hour she cool’d in her linens
And blythe be the bird that sings on her grave
Come to my arms, my Katie, my Katie,
An come to my arms, and kiss me again!
Drunken or sober, here’s to thee, Katie,
An blest be the day I did it again!

I hope everybody has a great day, make sure to kiss somebody you love extra times today! The round-up is over at Farm School, so go check it out!

poetry friday button

Poetry Friday: Danish Nursery Rhyme

The Three PrincessesToday I felt like sharing a funny Danish nursery rhyme. I always liked reading this one when I was a child (it’s in a collection we had growing up). The best part was always saying the names out loud!

There once was a King
who had three daughters.
The oldest he called

The second he called
Sip sippernip!
But the youngest of all he called
Sip sippernip sip sirumsip!

Not far away lived another King
who had three sons.
The oldest was called

The second was called
Skrat skratterat!
But the youngest of all was called
Skrat skratterat skrat skrirumskrat!

Now by and by
the two Kings got together,
the King who had three daughters
and the King who had three sons,
and decided that their children
should marry.
And married they were!

Sipsippernip got Skratskratterat
Sipsippernipsipsirumsip got Skratskratteratskratskrirumskrat.

As simple as that!

Have a great Friday everybody! The round-up is over at Shaken & Stirred, so go check it out!

poetry friday button

Poetry Friday: Birthday Poetry with Dr. Seuss

Seuss Birthday CakeAs I said in my previous post, today is my birthday. So I wanted to share some birthday poetry. But I’m in a bouncy mood so the thing that most appealed to me right now was Dr. Seuss! And of course, he has a whole book about birthdays! So I pulled it off the shelf and decided to share this passage with you! It’s only a tiny piece of the book, which is charming (as all his books are), although not really one of his best overall. It’s a fun one for birthdays, though. So here’s what Dr. Seuss has to say about birthdays from part of Happy Birthday to You!

And five minutes later, you’re having a snack
On your way out of town on a Smorgasbord’s back.
“Today,” laughs the Bird, “eat whatever you want.
Today no one tells you you cawnt or you shawnt.
And, today, you don’t have to be tidy or neat.
If you wish, you may eat with both hands and both feet.
So get in there and munch. Have big munch-er-oo!
Today is your birthday! Today you are you!

If we didn’t have birthdays, you wouldn’t be you.
If you’d never been born, well then what would you do?
If you’d never been born, well then what would you be?
You might be a fish! Or a toad in a tree!
You might be a doorknob! Or three baked potatoes!
You might be a bag full of hard green tomatoes.
Or worse than all that… Why you might be a WASN’T!
A Wasn’t has no fun at all. No, he doesn’t.
A Wasn’t just isn’t. He just isn’t present.
But you… You ARE YOU! And, now isn’t that pleasant!

So we’ll go to the top of the toppest blue space,
The Official Katroo Birthday Sounding-Off Place!
Come on! Open your mouth and sound off at the sky!
Shout loud at the top of your voice, “I AM I!
I am I!
And I may not know why
But I know that I like it.
Three cheers! I AM I!”

Have a great summer day everybody! I hope it’s beautiful and you get to do something fun! I’m going to go visit a new baby (Hi Evie!) and her proud parents (congrats again Jeff and Viv!) and spend the rest of the day doing fun things being me! I AM I!

The round up is at a wrung sponge today, so head on over there and check it out!

poetry friday button

Poetry Friday: Puppy and I

Christopher RobinToday we’re dogsitting for my parents and their cute little five pound puffball reminded me of my favorite puppy poem from A. A. Milne! This is just the first and last verse, but I do recommend checking out the whole thing if you haven’t read it since Milne’s verses are simply marvelous! He’s possibly my favorite poet ever. This one is from When We Were Very Young.

Puppy and I

I met a Man as I went walking;
We got talking,
Man and I.
“Where are you going to, Man?” I said
(I said to the Man as he went by).
“Down to the village, to get some bread.
Will you come with me?” “No, not I.”


I met a Puppy as I went walking;
We got talking,
Puppy and I.
“Where are you going this nice fine day?”
(I said to the Puppy as he went by).
“Up in the hiss to roll and play.”
I’ll come with you, Puppy,” said I.

I wish I could join them too! Especially on a day as nice as today! Join the rest of the poetry round-up over at HipWriterMama today and see what everyone else is sharing!

poetry friday button

Poetry Friday: Baseball and Its Fans

L. Frank BaumWith summer, I’ve been in the mood for baseball. One of my favorite authors shared this summer love of mine and wrote about it – L. Frank Baum. The most interesting thing about his baseball poems, though, is that almost none of them are about the game itself (and the one that is has seven lines and is about a playground game), but rather on the fans and their reactions to the game and the players. Baum had a good eye for the people around him and their reactions to things and I love the way he describes baseball fans in his poetry! This one is particularly astute:

Two Pictures


With one tremendous, deaf’ning roar
Ten thousand throats proclaim
Chicago has the biggest score,
And Anson’s won a game!

Ten thousand hats are toss’d in air,
Their owners all aflame
With rapture, for they’re well aware
That “Uncle’s” won a game.

Throughout the city flies the news
That tells the city’s fame,
While pandemonium ensues-
For Anson’s won a game!

All business worries are forgot,
E’en politics seem tame;
Who cares for Cuba’s woes a jot
Since Anson’s won a game?


But hark! what means this muttered growl,
This darksome look, this lowering scowl?
The “rooter’s” ceased his joyous howl
And hangs his head in shame.

And o’er the city falls a gloom
Unequaled save in gruesome tomb;
The reason is, we’ve met our doom
And Anson’s lost a game!

(published in the Chicago Sunday Times-Herald, 17 May, 1896)

It’s nice to know fans haven’t changed all that much, isn’t it? And you know Chicago would still be exactly like that if the Cubs managed to win another series, as New York is every time they win and Milwaukee has been lately with the Brewers on their winning streak. I mean, I live in Packer’s country, every football season businesses literally close just to watch football games and people nearly go into mourning if the team is losing. But that’s the way it works, isn’t it? I think this poem captures it perfectly!

The round-up is at Adventures in Daily Living, so go check it out there!

Poetry Friday: Pixie Poetry

FaerieToday I wanted to share an interesting poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay about a pixie-child of two strangely paired parents. It’s images intrigued me and I just found it too interesting not to include in a Poetry Friday post!

The Singing Woman from the Woods Edge

What should I be but a prophet and a liar,
Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar?
Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water,
What should I be but a fiend’s god-daughter?

And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog,
That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a bog?
And what should be my singing, that was christened at an altar,
But Aves and Credos and Psalms out of the Psalter?

You will see such webs on the wet grass, maybe,
As a pixie-mother weaves for her baby,
You will find such flame at the wave’s weedy ebb
As flashes in the meshes of a mer-mother’s web,

But there comes to birth no common spawn
From the love of a priest for a leprechaun,
And you never have seen and you never will see
Such things as the things that swaddled me!

After all’s said and after all’s done,
What should I be but a harlot and a nun?

In through the bushes, on any foggy day,
My Da would come a-swishing of the drops away,
With a prayer for my death and a groan for my birth,
A-mumbling of his beads for all that he was worth.

And there’d sit my Ma, with her knees beneath her chin,
A-looking in his face and a-drinking of it in,
And a-marking in the moss some funny little saying
That would mean just the opposite of all that he was praying!

He taught me the holy-talk of Vesper and of Matin,
He heard me my Greek and he heard me my Latin,
He blessed me and crossed me to keep my soul from evil,
And we watched him out of sight, and we conjured up the devil!

Oh, the things I haven’t seen and the things I haven’t known,
What with hedges and ditches till after I was grown,
And yanked both way by my mother and my father,
With a “which would you better? and a “which would you rather?”

With him for a sire and her for a dam,
What should I be but just what I am?

I hope you found the poem as interesting as I did! The round-up is at a wrung sponge today, so head over there and check it out!

Poetry Friday: Headache Poem

Migraine is a diseaseI haven’t talked about it much on my blog, but I have a headache every day. With all the low pressure fronts moving in with the rain in the springtime it’s been really hard on me lately. What I have is a very unusual condition where I essentially have a migraine every minute of every day. Really. It started in high school and I’ve had that *exact same headache* ever since. And I deal, because what else am I going to do? But it makes life very, very difficult. I’m lucky in that most of the people around me are incredibly supportive, even if it’s hard for them to really understand sometimes. I appreciate that more than I can say. I do encounter people who don’t get it. They do the “it’s just a headache” thing. But it’s not just a headache. It’s a migraine and it’s every single day. Anyone who has had a migraine can tell you that it is in no way JUST a headache. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. So when I stumbled on this poem on the internet, it really hit home. I know I probably shouldn’t reproduce the whole thing here, but I’m going to because I really want people to see it. The poem is from a contest on the website Help for Headaches and Migraines and is written by Teresa Ramos. There are some other wonderful poems from the contest there as well, so if you are interested at all, please check them out!

The Usual

I hate to be a complainer,
because lord knows I could complain every day,
and that gets irritating and annoying
and who wants to talk about it really
If you ask I will just say -
the usual

Yes, I see you looking at me with concern
I look pale, tired, frightful even
If you ask I will just say -
the usual

Sometimes you can tell that I have a horrible migraine
It shows in my face, my eyes, the way I carry my head
If you ask I will just say -
the usual

I certainly appreciate the question,
but sometimes just talking is a hardship
I will just do what I need to the best I can
If you ask I will say -
the usual

There are times that I will feel worse,
and times I will feel better,
If you ask I will just say -
the usual

Thank you Teresa Ramos for writing such a great poem that reflected so clearly what it’s like! I really appreciated it!

The Poetry Friday round-up this week is at Big A little a, so go check it out!

Poetry Friday: Dancing Poem

Pointe SlippersReading On Pointe and The Phoenix Dance, which both have lots and lots of dancing in them (no shock there) has put me in the mood for dancing myself! I’m not a good dancer (I have terrible rhythm and balance), but I love watching other people do it and I love to dance around by myself when no one else can see. So today I’m celebrating dancers and their marvelous feet with this poem by William de Lancey Ellwanger.

To Jessie’s Dancing Feet

How as a spider’s web is spun
With subtle grace and art,
Do thy light footsteps, every one,
Cross and recross my heart!
Now here, now there, and to and fro,
Their winding mazes turn;
Thy fairy feet so lightly go
They seem the earth to spurn.
Yet every step leaves there behind
A something, in thy dance,
That serves to tangle up my mind
And all my soul entrance.

How, as the web the spiders spin
And wanton breezes blow,
Thy soft and filmy laces in
A swirl around thee flow!
The cobweb ‘neath thy chin that’s crossed
Remains demurely put,
While those are ever whirled and tossed
That show thy saucy foot;
That show the silver grayness of
Thy stockings’ silken sheen,
And mesh of snowy skirts above
The silver that is seen.

How, as the spider, from his web,
Dangles in light suspense,
Do thy sweet measures’ flow and ebb
Sway my enraptured sense!
Thy fluttering lace, thy dainty airs,
Thy every charming pose-
There are not more alluring snares
To bind me with than those.
Swing on! Sway on! With easy
Grace thy witching steps repeat!
The love I dare not – to thy face -
I offer at thy feet.

Go out and dance in the marvelous spring weather!

Today’s Poetry Friday round-up is at Hip Writer Mama, so go check it out over there!

Poetry Friday: Goblin Poem

Goblin WarrensI’ve been missing my weekly Dungeons and Dragons game lately (which, for reasons of real life, we have been unable to play for a few weeks now), so when my husband sent me a link to Paizo Publishing’s Pathfinder blog it entertained me a little more than it probably otherwise would have. Paizo publishes Dragon and Dungeon magazines, which are both great if you play D&D and probably very boring if you don’t. I enjoy Dragon a lot and always look through Dungeon too (if only for the art). Some of my favorite art pieces from the magazines can be seen on my “I Want to Play Her” page. My favorite thing from the blog, however, was a cute little poem that the publishers wrote about the nature of goblins (who are nasty little buggers you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, but make for great low-level enemies in the game). I decided to share it for poetry Friday, with credit to the Pathfinder staff, of course! (Oh, and the picture to the right is an old Magic: The Gathering card that somehow seemed to fit the spirit of the poem just right!)

The Goblin Song
Goblins chew and goblins bite,
Goblins cut and goblins fight,
Stab the dog and cut the horse,
Goblins eat and take by force!

Goblins race and goblins jump,
Goblins slash and goblins bump,
Burn the skin and mash the head,
Goblins here and you be dead!

Chase the baby, catch the pup,
Bonk the head to shut it up!
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,
We the goblins—you the food!

-The Pathfinder Staff

There is a round-up of today’s Poetry Friday posts and some great firefly poems for spring at Big A little a!

« Previous Page« Previous entries « Previous Page · Next Page » Next entries »Next Page »