National Poetry Month - Day 8
Today was the 2nd Thursday of the month, and that means that members of my local Rotary were reading to classes at the local elementary school. Because it's National Poetry Month, I chose Donald Hall's The Ox-Cart Man and Christopher Myers Jabberwocky. I was pleased to see how many of them already owned or knew Donald Hall's marvelous book. "Jabberwocky" flummoxed them a bit, but we had fun talking about what you could get from the words, even if you'd never heard them before. They quickly decided that a "beamish boy" wasn't sad or angry or anything negative.
But before we read the books, I recited this poem, which my mother recited to my sister and me when we were young (and which I recited for booksareadrug when she was young). BD was way up in elementary school before I ever came across a copy of it in print. I'm giving you the print version, with my alternatives in brackets.
There Was Once A Puffin
Florence Page Jaques
Oh, there once was a Puffin [Our version went, "There once was a puffin]
just the shape of a muffin,
and he lived on an island
In the
bright [deep]
blue sea!
He ate little fishes,
That [--They] were most delicious
And he had [ate] them for supper [breakfast]
And he
had
them
for tea.
But this poor little Puffin
He couldn't play nuthin'
For he hadn't anybody [because he had no one]
To
play
with
at all.
So he sat on his island [He played solitaire]
And he cried for awhile, and [in the cold sea air]
He felt very lonely, [winter, spring]
And he [summer and fall]
felt
very small.
Then along came the fishes ['Til one day came the fishes,]
And they said, "If you wishes,
You can have us for playmates,
Instead
of
for
tea!
So they now play together [Now they all play together]
In all sorts of weather,
And the puffin eats pancakes [muffins]
Like you
and
like
me.
It's easy to see what happens when a poem is passed down orally. It starts to deviate from the original, at least in the details. Rhythm would appear to be easier to maintain than exact word choices, unless they rhyme.
I don't know if my mother made the switch from pancakes to muffins, but if it was her decision, it's probably because we never ate pancakes for supper when I was a child. I remember having them once at a neighbor's house and thinking how glamourous it was to eat something for supper that, as far as I knew, you were supposed to eat for breakfast.
My mother's version didn't include the Puffin on his island, but when I was reciting it to BD, it struck me that something was needed after the Puffin not having anyone to play with at all, so I made up the verse about playing solitaire. I remember it not being all that difficult, especially the first two lines, because their rhythm was so much in my head.
So, what poems do you remember from your childhood?