MOTHER
By
Rose Fyleman
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VOL II

When Mother comes each morning
She wears her oldest things,
She doesn't make a rustle,
She hasn't any rings;
She says, "Good-morning, chickies,
It's such a lovely day,
Let's go into the garden
And have a game of play!"

When mother comes at tea-time
her dress goes shoo-shoo-shoo,
She  always has a little bag,
Sometimes a sunshade  too;
She says "I'm so hoping
There's something left for me;
Please hurry up dear  Nanna
I am dying for my tea



When mother comes at
Bed-time
Her evening dress she wears,
She tells us each a story
When we have said our prayers;
And if there is a party
She looks so shiny bright
Its like a lovely fairy
Dropped in to say good night.

  Bedtime Fairies
by
  L.C. Gerstenfeld

Fleeting glimpses hard to find,
Imagined wonders of lovely kind.
In night times waking in pleasant dreams,
In the moon's gossamer, silver beams.
Fairies dance the night away,
Gone at dawn, in flight of day.
  


 

 
                                                                                                                                                            
                                                                                                                                                
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