260 Childhood poems

Deeper than sleep but not so deep as death I lay there dreaming and my magic head remembered and forgot. On first cry I remembered and forgot and did believe. I knew love and I knew evil: woke to the burning song and the tree burning blind, despair of our days and the calm milk-giver who knows sleep, knows growth, the sex of fire and grass, renewal of all waters and the time of the stars and the black snake with gold bones. Black sleeps, gold burns; on second cry I woke fully and gave to feed and fed on feeding. Gold seed, green pain, my wizards in the earth walked through the house, black in the morning dark. Shadows grew in my veins, my bright belief, my head of dreams deeper than night and sleep. Voices of all black animals crying to drink, cries of all birth arise, simple as we, found in the leaves, in clouds and dark, in dream, deep as this hour, ready again to sleep.

The monsters in my closet Like to sleep the day away. So when I get home from school, I let them out to play. When Mom calls me for supper, I give them each a broom. First they put my toys away, And then they clean my room. The Mummy hates to vacuum. So if he starts to whine, I kick his rear and tell him, “Trade jobs with Frankenstein.” Wolfman used to fold my clothes. I’ll give him one more chance— Last time he wasn’t careful And left furballs in my pants. When my room is nice and neat, I bring them up some food. But Dracula wants to drink my blood— I think that’s pretty rude. When it’s time to go to bed, I hug them all goodnight. They jump back in my closet, While I turn out the light. I’ve taken care of monsters For as long as I recall, But the monsters in my closet Are the nicest ones of all!

Consider the rip for a mouth, the rip in the crotch, the hank of hair, consider the flair for ill-fortune, the empty stare, the done deal with sorrow, the rich and rare nest-egg of dreams, the share and share alike in matters of loss, the payments in kind, the liking for blind bets, for truth or dare; consider the threadbare get up, the make-up beyond repair, the tin-tack teeth, consider the dungeon voice wanting nothing more than bare house-room, and nothing less than hand-in-glove, a pigeon pair given over to make and mend, to touch and go, to wear and tear, and all it takes is this: forswear flint and fire, stay silent, be white on white, live in dead air.

After Lyle Lovett If I had a ginko tree I'd climb it in the evening. If I had a marmoset He'd climb the tree with me. If we saw a falling star I'd wish I had a rocket. If I had a rocket I'd drag the star back home. If I went to space I'd pick up a satellite. If I had my own moon I wouldn't be so sad. If I weren't so sad I wouldn't need a companion. If I sold my marmoset I'd have a lot of cash. If I had some money I'd buy an Eldorado. (Silver, 1959, With fins like raptor wings.) I'd shine that Eldorado and drive it to my father's. If I had a father I'd take him for a ride.

My little lack-of-light, my swaddled soul, December baby. Hush, for it is dark, and will grow darker still. We must embark directly. Bring an orange as the toll for Charon: he will be our gondolier. Upon the shore, the season pans for light, and solstice fish, their eyes gone milky white, come bearing riches for the dying year: solstitial kingdom. It is yours, the mime of branches and the drift of snow. With shaking hands, Persephone, the winter’s wife, will tender you a gift. Born in a time of darkness, you will learn the trick of making. You shall make your consolation all your life.

Sleep little baby, clean as a nut, Your fingers uncurl and your eyes are shut. Your life was ours, which is with you. Go on your journey. We go too. The bat is flying round the house Like an umbrella turned into a mouse. The moon is astonished and so are the sheep: Their bells have come to send you to sleep. Oh be our rest, our hopeful start. Turn your head to my beating heart. Sleep little baby, clean as a nut, Your fingers uncurl and your eyes are shut.

Lullee, lullay, I could not love thee more If thou wast Christ the King. Now tell me, how did Mary know That in her womb should sleep and grow The Lord of everything? Lullee, lullay, An angel stood with her Who said: “That which doth stir Like summer in thy side Shall save the world from sin. Then stable, hall, and inn Shall cherish Christmas-tide.” Lullee, lullay, And so it was that Day. And did she love Him more Because an angel came To prophesy His name? Ah no, not so, She could not love Him more, But loved Him just the same. Lullee, lullay. Originally appeared in the December 1938 issue of Poetry magazine.

Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And every where that Mary went The lamb was sure to go; He followed her to school one day — That was against the rule, It made the children laugh and play To see a lamb at school. And so the Teacher turned him out, But still he lingered near, And waited patiently about, Till Mary did appear. And then he ran to her and laid His head upon her arm, As if he said — "I'm not afraid — You'll shield me from all harm." "What makes the lamb love Mary so," The little children cry; "O, Mary loves the lamb you know, The Teacher did reply, "And you each gentle animal In confidence may bind, And make them follow at your call, If you are always kind."

Father, father, where are you going O do not walk so fast. Speak father, speak to your little boy Or else I shall be lost, The night was dark no father was there The child was wet with dew. The mire was deep, & the child did weep And away the vapour flew.

She’s with Grandma in front of Grandma’s house, backed by a willow tree, gladiola and roses. Who did she ever want to please? But Grandma seems half-pleased and annoyed. No doubt Mother frowns behind the lens, wants to straighten this sassy face. Maybe laughs, too. Little girl with her mouth wide, tongue out, yelling at the camera. See her little white purse full of treasure, her white sandals? She has things to do, you can tell. Places to explore beyond the frame, and these women picking flowers and taking pictures. Why won’t they let her go?