Methinks 'tis pretty sport to hear a child
Rocking a word in mouth yet undefiled;
The tender racquet rudely plays the sound
Which, weakly bandied, cannot back rebound;
And the soft air the softer roof doth kiss
With a sweet dying and a pretty miss,
Which hears no answer yet from the white rang
Of teeth not risen from their coral bank.
The alphabet is searched for letters soft
To try a word before it can be wrought;
And when it slideth forth, it goes as nice
As when a man doth walk upon ice.
Thomas Bastard 1566 - 1618
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2 comments:
I am ashamed of what has happened with J's talking this week, I lost my temper decorating in the kitchen and threw the wallpaper brush onto the floor and repeated the "F" word several times. J does a fantastic interpretation of the incident and has done on many occaisions since then. I relly can't begin to describe how awful I feel about it. We are trying to un-learn it for huim by ignoring it when he saiys it and I have vowed not to use the word again (in front of him...)
Katie read the poem and wanted to leave you a comment. Here it is:
'Mmm, Bah, Bah, bye bye'
Elaine
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