My son and daughter are both still at the ‘Why?’ age. However they recently gave me a taste of my own medicine. When asked why they were pretending to be hamsters in the imaginary game they were playing the 3-year-old answered, ‘Oh, just because!”
This made me wonder if I am killing their inner philosopher… and think about the general absurdity of some of the things I say to stop the incessant questions.
Because I told you not to.
Because it was your turn yesterday.
Because you need to learn to share.
Because your mother said so.
Because she knows best.
Because you can’t always get your way.
Because we’re not made out of money.
Because money doesn’t grow on trees.
Because you can’t have everything.
Another number poem:
Ringwraiths out of middle earth,
from conception through to birth.
As a chemical or a polygon,
it’s flourine and anonagon.
Buddist ritual or in Islam,
it’s monks and the month of Ramadan.
Is it smart dressed morris men,
that circle Dantes’ hell again.
An ennead to amuse a greek,
while pluto’s planet loses teeth,
and Odin hung in an ashen tree,
fearing it is his last symphony.
To quote Rolf Harris, ‘Can you see what it is yet?’ There are 17 clues including the title .
Why is seven, plus or minus two
the memory span of me or you.
And seven dwarfs, knock seven bells,
out of seven sisters in seven wells.
Why are there seven deadly sins,
And seven days to do them in.
OK rhyme and the rhythm aren’t great, but I liked the idea of doing a poem out of links.
Posted in poems