Mother Goose

the smell of an old book - 
might’ve been my mom’s...

spots of dirt and candy 
over my son John.

Hey diddle, diddle 
in the middle of the page,

Little Boy Blue 
looking twice his age.

Colours fading, maybe, 
from the girls of Georgie Porgie,

and the Muffet 
on the tuffet’s gone away.

pages thin and tearing 
‘cross the mitts 
the kitts were wearing...

Mary’s garden 
surely knew a better day.

open up and pour 
o’er the joys of childhood ‘lore, 

tap the door at three and four 
until it opens.

it’s been good 
to know you, book,

to step inside 
and take a look...

reminding of the 
good and fun of hopin’.

spots of dirt and candy.

colours fading, maybe.

pages thin and torn.

joys of childhood ‘lore.

the smell of an old book - 
might’ve been my mom’s.