Showing posts with label Mondays Child Wind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mondays Child Wind. Show all posts

Monday, April 11, 2011

Where, Wind?



        Florence Edith Storer

MONDAY'S CHILD
(A poem for Children)

The wind is always blowing and blowing,
When it is rainy and when it is snowing,
It's always to-ing and always fro-ing
But where is it going? Where is it going?
*
Where does it end as it goes on its way,
Over the mountains and over the bay,
The wind has a voice but I don't hear it say
'I'm going to so-and-so country today.'
*
It comes to the trees and goes over the top,
Over the houses and over the shop,
And some people say that the wind likes to 'drop'
But where does it stop? Where does it stop?
*
Does the wind have a map we can't ever see?
Does the gnat know the answer, the bird and the bee?
Is the only one kept in the dark little me?
Where can it be? Where can it be?
*
There may be an answer, but I won't be knowing,
Where the wind's ebbing and where the wind's flowing.
It's dancing, it's breezing, it's speeding, it's slowing,
But where is it going? Where is it going?
*
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STATUE STATISTICS

Next time you're in some ancient town and a statue looms ahead,
Don't look at the rider, look at the horse instead!
Whether it's king or captain, you can understand his fate
By looking at the horse's legs and the history they state.
If both front legs are in the air, the rider met his end
On the field of battle, on that you can depend.
If one leg only is on the ground the rider died, for sure,
But later, of his dreadful wounds. (Lots of blood and gore!)
If all four hooves are planted right down on the earth instead,
Be sure the rider died at home, quietly, in his bed.
The gentleman we see above was lucky, presumably.
He looks very much like a soldier but one who got off scott-free.
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