To a Child Who Inquires

How did you come to me, my sweet?

From the land that no man knows?

Did Mr. Stork bring yo here on his wings?

Were you born in the heart of a rose?

Did an angel fly with you down from the sky?

Were you found in a gooseberry patch?

Did a fairy bring you from fairyland

To my door — that was left on a latch?

No — my darling was born of a wonderful love, 

A love that was Daddy’s and mine.

A love that was human, but deep and profound,

A love that was almost divine.

Do you remember, sweetheart, when we went to the zoo,

And we saw the big bear with a grouch?

And the tigers and lions, and that tall kangaroo

That carried her babe in a pouch?

Do you remember I told you she kept them there safe

From the cold and the wind, till they grew

Big enough to take care of themselves? And dear heart,

That’s just how I first cared for you.

I carried you under my heart, my sweet,

And I sheltered you safe from alarms;

Then one wonderful day the dear God looked down,

And I snuggled you tight in my arms.

by Olga Petrova from The Best Loved Poems of the American People.

An Ode to Yesterdays

I remember the bologna of my childhood,
And the bread that we cut with a knife,
When the children helped with the housework,
And the men went to work not the wife.

The cheese never needed a fridge,
And the bread was so crusty and hot,
The children were seldom unhappy
And the wife was content with her lot.

I remember the milk from the bottle,
With the yummy cream on the top,
Our dinner came hot from the oven,
And not from a freezer; or shop.

The kids were a lot more contented,
They didn't need money for kicks,
Just a game with their friends in the road,
And sometimes the Saturday flicks.

I remember the shop on the corner,
Where cookies for pennies were sold
Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic?
Or is it....I'm just getting old?

Bathing was done in a washtub,
With plenty of rich foamy suds
But the ironing seemed never ending
As Mama pressed everyone's 'duds'.

I remember the slap on my backside,
And the taste of soap if I swore
Anorexia and diets weren't heard of
And we hadn't much choice what we wore.

Do you think that bruised our ego?
Or our initiative was destroyed?
We ate what was put on the table
And I think life was better enjoyed.

... Author, Unknown

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