Just went for my weekly visit to mum (aged 92) at Ashfields Nursing Home and although she couldn't remember what she had for breakfast she had no trouble in remembering the first few months of this poem by Sara Coleridge, written for her own children in the 1830's & probably learnt at Mill Street infant's school by my mum in the 1920's -
January brings the Snow, makes our feet and fingers glow
February brings the rain, thaws the frozen lake again
March brings breezes loud and shrill, stirs the dancing Daffodil
April brings the Primrose sweet, scatters Daisies at out feet
May brings flocks of pretty lambs, skipping by their fleecy dams
June brings Tulips, Lilies, Roses, fills the children's hands with posies Hot
July brings cooling showers, Apricots and Gilli flowers
August brings the sheaves of corn, then the harvest home is borne Warm
September brings the fruit, sportsmen then begin to shoot Fresh
October brings the Pheasant, then to gather nuts is pleasant Dull
November brings the blast, then the leaves are whirling fast Chill
December brings the sleet, blazing fire and Christmas treat
No comments:
Post a Comment