Poetry in Motion
As I was packing some books last night, I came across my copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends". I've loved this book since I was a little girl and it's probably where my love of poetry began. I was flipping through it and I came across one of my favorite poems. Even though it is aimed towards children, I find this particular poem still resonates with me now.
The One Who Stayed
By Shel Silverstein
You should have heard the old me cry,
You should have heard the biddies
When that sad stranger raised his flute
And piped away the kiddies.
Katy,Tommy, Meg and Bob
Followed, skipping gaily,
Red-haired Ruth, my brother Rob
And little crippled Baily,
John and Nils and Cousin Claire,
Dancin', spinnin', turnin'
'Cross the hills to God knows where-
They never came returnin'.
'Cross the hills to God know where
The piper pranced, a leadin'
Each child in Hamlin Town but me,
And I stayed home unheedin'.
My papa says that I was blest
For if that music found me,
I'd be witch-cast like the rest.
This town grows old around me.
I cannot say I did not hear
That sound so haunting hollow-
I heard, I heard, I heard it clear...
I was afraid to follow.
posted by carlotta @ 10:46 AM
2 Comments:
Amazing how Uncle Shelby can hit you no matter what age you are!
I just read some poems to my little booger yesterday from Sidewalk.... I've given her MY copy from 100 years ago.
XXOO big hugs, momma!
I love Shel Silverstein!
My fav is:
SICK
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash, and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more - that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue -
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke -
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is - what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is ... Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
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