This morning I woke up feeling, well, nostalgic, I guess.
Maybe it was the poetry book I bought at the library the other day. It's a volume on Light Verse. One of the sections is the childhood playground. It has just about every childhood nursery rhyme in it.
"As I was going to St. Ives,
I met a man with seven wives,
Each wife had seven sacks,
Each sack had seven cats,
Each cat had seven kits:
Kits, cats, sacks, wives,
How many were there going to St. Ives?"
Or maybe it was the thought of all Turnbaby's Christmas totes. Which brought to mind the Oscar Wilde story 'The Happy Prince" that we read every Christmas Eve.
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
stay with me one night longer?"
"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swallow. "Tomorrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water's edge to drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract."
You can download the book here:
Much of the day I spent snuggled up under my blanket reading through favorite childhood poems and stories.
Hopefully this is a sign of the the nice autumn coming our way.