Wynken, Blynken, and Ichabod
Dad, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod's not right;
Seems to me they’ve not a clue.
For starters, they tried to sail at night,
Though wood shoes float, that much is true.
And then they meet a talking moon:
A moon that laughs and sings a song?
Be quiet, child,
Let’s move along.
About these herring, something’s red;
Seems that selection’s rather odd.
Perhaps a different fish instead;
I’d give a nod to scrod or cod.
Child, hush, so I can read to you
Keep talking and we’ll never get through…
I have a doubt about Sleepy Hollow:
Again, why is Crane out at night?
Who holds the rains? It does not follow;
You sure you read the story right?
It’s reins, not rains, you silly head!
Now lay back down upon the bed.
Hey dad, wake up!
This story’s flawed.
I have more doubts ‘bout Ichabod.
To bed, child, hush, to sleep, goodnight!
We can discuss in morning light.
We read to send you off in dreams,
But I must close my eyes, it seems.
The day will come when you are grown
With children of your very own.
With questions that will never cease,
And you will beg for sweet release…
That is a thought that makes me smile,
So I’ll stay here and sing awhile
Make verses up ‘bout Ichabod
And Wynken, Blynken, till you nod.
Copyright ©
Jeff Kyser
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