By Rosie Preston
Luckily, I was blessed to have discovered such a meaningful poem as this one, even though it was written many years ago. Every parent must acknowledge that the sentiments ex-pressed in this poem still ring true today.
The Children’s Hour
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the light is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day’s occupations
That is known as the Children’s Hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice and Laughing Allegra
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence;
Yet I know by their merry eyes,
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret,
O’er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine.
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all?
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the wall shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Keep smiling, Rosie
Contact Rosie Preston at rosie.preston@yahoo.com.
