Childish Reflections – 2

Milk comes, of course, from placid cow,

But how I wish I knew just how.

Once when I was quite fast asleep,

I dreamt that milk came from a sheep.

But then I saw a kangaroo,

Who gave milk to her Joey too.

Then in a book about a mummy,

Whose baby came from in her tummy,

I read the baby was dressed in silk,

And fed – you guessed it – on mummy’s milk.

The stuff is white and very nice,

Both warm or even cold with ice.

Milk’s full of calcium and things like that,

But drink the type with much less fat.

Mix in flavors snd shake it up,

And put it in a nice big cup.

Drink a little every day,

Is what you hear your parents say.

It helps build bones, it helps you grow,

And more you really need not know.

Salmon, trout and pike are what?

It starts with F, you’re getting hot.

Thrush and robin and crow as well,

Begin with the same letter as bell.

Some run races, some pull carts,

H is the letter with which their name starts.

They all have humps, both one and two,

You see them often in the zoo.

They bask and call them man’s best friend,

The word has G right at the end.

Horses eat them – humans too,

It sounds like a parrot, now that’s a clue.

If you guessed all six, you get top marks,

Now which of them did we say barks?

You know the moon is made of cheese,

And paint is made by squashing peas.

The sun is made of gingerbread,

It’s very hot and nice with spread.

Rivers all flow with peanut butter

Fish don’t complain, don’t even splutter.

The sky is blue and that’s no joke,

It’s made of egg without the yolk.

Hills are lumps of cake and moss,

And clouds are made of candy floss.

Imagine all that you’ve just read,

Put on your shoes and go to bed.

Once there was a sloth who took,

Too much time to read his book.

He was as bright as you or me,

But took so long to drink his tea.

Everything he did was slow,

His family was the same, you know.

You and I have no notion,

What life is like in such slow motion.

They take an age to climb a tree,

To eat their food or catch a bee.

Despite all this, sloths are great,

Even though they’re always late.

No wonder that sloths both young and old,

Are also too slow to catch a cold.

I wonder if on honeymoon,

The bride would ever meet the groom.

Ricky Ticky

Tacky Flop

This what I call our squeeze mop.

I know it must sound rather silly,

Yet sounds much better than just John or Billy.

It washes floors, cleans nook and cranny,

Perhaps I should have called it Granny.

I think I’ll stick to Tacky Flop,

After all, it’s just a mop.

From the pigs come bacon, ham and pork,

And little piglets tend to squark.

The German word for pig is Schwein,

In French it’s Cochon, it doesn’t rhyme.

The English call a man’s best friend,

A dog, and let’s not pretend

That the German Hund or

French Chien

Sound hardly like a friend to man.

The French know horses as Chavaux

Just one’s Chaval, I suppose you know.

The German word is simply Pferd

I wonder if you really cared.

It’s good to know that foreign folks,

Have other names for cats and goats.

Chat is cat in French you see,

And Katze in German, don’t tell me.

If you learn these words quite well,

When on the farm then you can can tell,

The names of Tiere every one,

Oh, that’s animals in German, still having fun?

Check the list of foreign words,

Of dogs and cats and even birds.

Vogel is the word for that,

And no, it’s not a little cat.

Of all the animals in the zoo,

The foreign names you all knew,

You would be well on the way,

To speak in other tongues one day.

Never believe the apple pies,

They’re known to tell such dreadful lies.

One told me once that it was neither,

Good to eat nor tasty either.

Once a cake believed a pie,

To this date I don’t know why.

The cake was eaten straight away,

The pie went calmly on its way.

If pigs used handkerchiefs instead,

Of wiping their noses on the shed,

If sheep used brush and comb to groom,

Their lambs when they come home at noon,

If cows said oh! And fancy that!

When looking at a farmer’s hat,

If bears gave hugs to passers-by,

And asked for wheat instead of rye,

If goats built nests on chimney pots,

And tied their beards in granny knots,

If froggies all wore hats and coats,

And fish and lobsters lived on boats,

Life might be good, it may be bad,

We may be happy, we may be sad.

If all the things were as I’ve said,

Don’t go to school, just stay in bed.

I love my horse, her name’s Chaval

She’s thoroughbred and jumps as well.

Her coat is smooth, her tail is long,

Her legs are slender, but very strong.

I love to canter, trot and walk,

She’s my best friend – wish she could talk.

By stomping her hoof on the ground,

She can count so I have found.

I ride her nearly every day,

I give her water and feed her hay.

She is so friendly and so much fun,

But there is much work that must be done.

So every week if I am able,

I have to clean out her whole stable.

I get her shod most every year,

The smithy comes with shoe for her.

He shapes them on his anvil tool,

They fit just right as a rule.

Tack is used as the name,

Of halter, saddle, bridle and rein.

Dandy brush and carry comb,

I use on her before she’s shown.

I stroke her neck or pat her side,

After every single ride.

Before I go, I hug her neck,

I couldn’t have a nicer pet.

You must remember this of course,

There is much work with a horse.

But in return for all of this,

She gives me a special horsey kiss.

Why does Mummy always say,

I have to brush my hair each day?

Washing it is even worse,

Twice a week at least, of course.

I woke one morning in early spring

A little bird was looking in.

She saw my hair in such a mess,

It looked disheveled, I must confess.

She whistled to her husband who,

Was fatter and more colorful too.

“The moss upon that child’s head,

Looks so thick and soft,” she said.

That’s the place we’ll make our nest,

Let’s put the project to the test.

I told the birdies looking on,

That their intent was really wrong.

I said, “Dear birdies, what is planned,

Cannot take place, please understand.”

“The nest material that you see,

Grows on my head, belongs to me.”

“It is my hair, I know it’s soft,

But why not nest inside our loft?”

“Or in a tree, or in a bush,

I’ll help you if you’re in a rush.”

The birdies tweeted, Oh! Pardon sir,

We didn’t want to interfere.

Your hair looked great and so inviting,

We loved the view, we liked the lighting.

Please listen to me if you care,

Do as you’re told, and brush your hair.

Once upon einmal there was,

Ein kind who was not liked because,

Er war so laut, he misbehaved.

Despite his age, he even shaved.

Den Kameraden gegenüber,

He was a frightful Grantelhuber.

No one liked to be with him,

Er hat nur schlechte Sachen im Sinn.

He was so rude and lästig auch,

Durch essen, he was mainly Bauch.

He had no friends, war unpopulär.

His clothes were dull, he was a square.

Then one day er traf a Lass,

Sein Benehmen she began to hass,

The girl in question’s aim was change,

Jeder fand er rather strange.

Sie möchte ihn despite his flaws,

Zum ersten Mal he found a cause.

He tried to please, war hilfsbereit,

He learnt between the wrong and right.

Und nach und nach glaubte man an ihn.

He turned into a special teen,

He paid back those er hat beleidigt.

Everyone hat in verteidigt.

He got engaged, studierte weiter,

And became the best Erziehungsleiter.

Something nasty lives under my bed,

Its face is white, its hair is red.

At daytime it is always out,

But at night it wanders all about.

When all is still, moon over the meadow,

It creeps through the house, I’ve seen its shadow.

It hunts for children when night arrives,

And chases husbands and their wives.

My parents say it doesn’t exist,

And that nothing happened if I am kissed.

So every night I make quite sure,

I’m kissed goodnight, don’t shut the door!

They leave a special glowing light,

And I squeeze my teddy very tight.

My toy soldier, and Ben, my teddy,

Guard all night, stay at the ready.

This thing is only in my head,

From dreams or something I have read.

I used to think it would do me harm,

But now I sleep and stay quite calm.

Now every night when in my bed,

I think of nicer things instead.

A cat who lived quite close to town,

Received a message from a dove,

Which said the moon was falling down.

In order to avoid just that,

Knowing the task was very great,

She consulted with an owl and bat.

The owl was wise, the bat was bright,

Together they devised a plan,

They worked on projects every night.

To achieve the task they needed string,

They borrowed glue and candle wax.

Their friend, the pig, even lent her ring.

A ladder was made with glue and knots,

The length of which was very great,

With rungs of rhubarb-sticks and socks.

They waited for a full moon night,

When the moon was big and round,

Because they needed lots of light.

The cat was chosen to make the climb,

The bat and owl gave their support,

She had to reach the moon in time.

The man up there said, “You climbed so high.

No one has been here before.

But rumours of falling are just a lie.”

“Now you’re here, please be my guest.

Your friends should join you here as well,

To see that you achieved your quest.”

“I appreciate all the concern,

It’s nice to think others care,

To visit me and learn.”

“My moon is here, still quite secure,

I’ll continue to light your world at night.

It won’t be falling, of that be sure.”

The moral of this little tale,

The symbol of both love and peace,

Is that doves should stick to carrying mail.