The End -- A A Milne

(Poem #1097) The End When I was One, I had just begun. When I was Two, I was nearly new. When I was Three, I was hardly Me. When I was Four, I was not much more. When I was Five, I was just alive. But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever. So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever. -- A A Milne

        (from "Now We Are Six")

I'm almost certain that Billy Collins had this childhood classic at the back
of his mind when he wrote "On Turning Ten" [Poem #1096]. He appears to have
answered from an adult perspective -- but one that would be interesting to
share with a 10-year-old,"  whereas Milne wrote from what he must have imagined
was a child's perspective. However. I think children of six have a much clearer
sense of anticipation of the future than the title of Milne's poem -- "The End"
-- would imply. They are just starting school, learning to read and write, and
they can already count quite well, certainly up to and beyond what Collins
calls "the first big number." I think that excitement about what comes next,
even if it is a little scary, is probably more dominant than the complacency of
"I think I'll be six for ever and ever."

Writing what is in children's minds, or what was in ones own mind as a child
or indeed at any time in the past,  is always a challenge; the more I look
at children the more I believe that even very small children think in more
complicated ways than many adults would like to believe.

To its credit, though, "The End" is a fine poem for early readers of
English, with its reassuring repeated syntactical structures on the one hand
and the rhymes that exhibit the devilish vagaries of English spelling on the
other.

-- Vivian

Happiness -- A A Milne

Guest poem submitted by M.E. Lasseter:

(Poem #1051) Happiness John had Great Big Waterproof Boots on; John had a Great Big Waterproof Hat; John had a Great Big Waterproof Mackintosh -- And that (Said John) Is That. -- A A Milne

I like this poem because of the simple way it rolls off the tongue. It's
orderly because of its simplicity and non-verbosity.

Robert Fulghum has this to say about this poem in his book Words I Wish I
Wrote: "If you live for a long time, as I have, in the Pacific Northwest,
where it rains all winter long, you cherish the feeling of being warm and
dry and still out in the weather. This poem expresses that sense of
well-being. A child understands. In the quest for God, when you find out
there there is nowhere God is not and that you are as much a part of the
universe as the
farthest star, you have a sense of well-being not unlike the child in this
poem. That is that. I often recited this to my children before a meal or at
bedtime. It's not a prayer. It's a state of being, understood by a child of
six or sixty."

That, I think, is all the analysis that is needed. :)

mel.

[Minstrels Links]

A. A. Milne:
Poem #91, Cottleston Pie
Poem #463, Disobedience
Poem #562, The King's Breakfast
Poem #576, Tra-la-la, tra-la-la
Poem #1022, Buckingham Palace
Poem #1051, Happiness

Buckingham Palace -- A A Milne

(Poem #1022) Buckingham Palace They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace - Christopher Robin went down with Alice. Alice is marrying one of the guard. "A soldier's life is terrible hard," Says Alice. They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace - Christopher Robin went down with Alice. We saw a guard in a sentry-box. "One of the sergeants looks after their socks," Says Alice. They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace - Christopher Robin went down with Alice. We looked for the King, but he never came. "Well, God take care of him, all the same," Says Alice. They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace - Christopher Robin went down with Alice. They've great big parties inside the grounds. "I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds," Says Alice. They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace - Christopher Robin went down with Alice. A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's. "He's much too busy a-signing things," Says Alice. They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace - Christopher Robin went down with Alice. "Do you think the King knows all about me?" "Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea," Says Alice. -- A A Milne

The fashionably cynical will find plenty to mock at in A. A. Milne. There's
no denying that his poetry lacks depth: it's irritatingly self-satisfied,
determinedly insular, and above all, ineffably twee.

And yet...

There's a certain magic about Milne. His verse may not be Great Art, but
it's more than mere doggerel. It's charming, and assured, and
unselfconscious; it's invariably cheerful, often nostalgic and occasionally
subversively funny; it celebrates the Edwardian countryside and the English
experience with sincerity and honesty, and it does all these in words both
light-hearted and heartfelt. To criticise Milne's poetry for its lack of
depth is to miss the point entirely: simplicity can be a virtue. Especially
in these sophisticated days.

thomas.

[Minstrels Links]

A. A. Milne:
Poem #91, Cottleston Pie
Poem #463, Disobedience
Poem #562, The King's Breakfast
Poem #576, Tra-la-la, tra-la-la

Tra-la-la, tra-la-la -- A A Milne

Guest poem (and prose) submitted by Siddhartha Joshi:

Since 14 Oct is Winnie-the-Pooh's birthday (as per my Pooh calendar)...

(Poem #576) Tra-la-la, tra-la-la He had made up a little hum that very morning, as he was doing his Stoutness Exercises in front of the glass: Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, as he stretched up as high as he could go, and then Tra-la-la, tra-la--oh, help!--la, as he tried to reach his toes. After breakfast he had said it over and over to himself until he had learnt it off by heart, and now he was humming it right through, properly. It went like this: Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum. Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle, Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle, Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um. -- A A Milne

I love the wonderful, exuberant brand of poetry that Milne conjured up;
verses like
        "Sing Ho! for the life of a Bear!
         I don't much mind if it rains or snows,
         'Cos I've got a lot of honey on my nice new nose!"
are such an important part of the magic of his stories. Indeed, few chapters
of Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner are without verse of some
form - usually sung ("he murmured this to himself three times in a singing
sort of way") by Pooh Bear or his other (stuffed) animal chums. That's also
the reason I'm including the text snippets that the verses are embedded in -
in the books :-) - it just doesn't read *right* without them.

Siddhartha.

[Links]

[broken link] http://www.machaon.ru/pooh/

[Moreover]

So Owl wrote ... and this is what he wrote:

        HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY.

Pooh looked on admiringly.

"I'm just saying 'A Happy Birthday'," said Owl carelessly.

"It's a nice long one," said Pooh, very much impressed by it.

"Well, actually, of course, I'm saying 'A Very Happy Birthday with love from
Pooh.' Naturally it takes a good deal of pencil to say a long thing like
that."

"Oh, I see," said Pooh.

        -- A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh.

The King's Breakfast -- A A Milne

(Poem #562) The King's Breakfast The King asked The Queen, and The Queen asked The Dairymaid: "Could we have some butter for The Royal slice of bread?" The Queen asked the Dairymaid, The Dairymaid Said, "Certainly, I'll go and tell the cow Now Before she goes to bed." The Dairymaid She curtsied, And went and told the Alderney: "Don't forget the butter for The Royal slice of bread." The Alderney said sleepily: "You'd better tell His Majesty That many people nowadays Like marmalade Instead." The Dairymaid Said "Fancy!" And went to Her Majesty. She curtsied to the Queen, and She turned a little red: "Excuse me, Your Majesty, For taking of The liberty, But marmalade is tasty, if It's very Thickly Spread." The Queen said "Oh!" And went to his Majesty: "Talking of the butter for The royal slice of bread, Many people Think that Marmalade Is nicer. Would you like to try a little Marmalade Instead?" The King said, "Bother!" And then he said, "Oh, deary me!" The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!" And went back to bed. "Nobody," He whimpered, "Could call me A fussy man; I only want A little bit Of butter for My bread!" The Queen said, "There, there!" And went to The Dairymaid. The Dairymaid Said, "There, there!" And went to the shed. The cow said, "There, there! I didn't really Mean it; Here's milk for his porringer And butter for his bread." The queen took the butter And brought it to His Majesty. The King said "Butter, eh?" And bounced out of bed. "Nobody," he said, As he kissed her Tenderly, "Nobody," he said, As he slid down The banisters, "Nobody, My darling, Could call me A fussy man - BUT I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!" -- A A Milne

There is surely no body of verse in which strong rhythm has been more
effectively and enthusiastically used than in children's poetry, and Milne
is in this regard (as in several others) one of the very best. Today's poem
needs no real commentary, except to say that I find it no less delightful
today than I did as a child.

Links:

To see the illustrated version of the poem:
[broken link] http://www.crocker.com/~slinberg/poems/milne/kingsbreakfast.html

For another nice Milne poem, and a biography, see poem #463

Afterthought:

I was going to write a piece on why rhythmic verse is so appealing to
children, but realised that I didn't know too much about it myself. Perhaps
someone could comment with greater authority?

-martin

Disobedience -- A A Milne

(Poem #463) Disobedience James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree Took great Care of his Mother, Though he was only three. James James Said to his Mother, "Mother", he said, said he; "You must never go down to the end of the town, if you don't go down with me." James James Morrison's Mother Put on a golden gown, James James Morrison's Mother Drove to the end of the town. James James Morrison's Mother Said to herself, said she: "I can get right down to the end of the town and be back in time for tea" King John Put up a notice, "LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED! JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID. LAST SEEN WANDERING VAGUELY; QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD, SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN TO THE END OF THE TOWN- FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD! James James Morrison Morrison (Commonly known as Jim) Told his Other relations Not to go blaming _him_. James James Said to his Mother, "Mother", he said, said he: "You must never go down to the end of the town with- out consulting me." James James Morrison's Mother Hasn't been heard of since. King John Said he was sorry, So did the Queen and Prince. King John (Somebody told me) Said to a man he knew: "If people go down to the end of the town, well, what can anyone do?" (Now then, very softly) J. J. M. M. W. G. Du P. Took great C/o his M***** Though he was only 3. J. J. Said to his M***** "M*****", he said, said he: "You-must-never-go-down-to-the-end-of-the-town-if- you-don't-go-down-with-ME!" -- A A Milne

Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet... Woozles, Jagulars and Heffalumps...   Honey...
Kanga and Roo, not to mention Tigger... are you feeling nostalgic yet? Milne's
tales of the Hundred Acre Wood need no introduction -  nor, for that matter,
contradiction <grin>. Seriously, though, I cannot imagine a childhood lived
without Edward Bear and his many friends, and I'm sure the same holds true for
people all over the world and of every generation.

Equally enchanting are Milne's books of light verse - 'When We Were Very Young',
and 'Now We Are Six'. The ballad of James James and his errant mother was my
favourite poem from the former; I'm told that when _I_ was very young, I used to
recite the entire thing at breakneck speed and earsplitting volume -
_especially_ the last stanza.

Ah, fond memories. And the truly wonderful thing is that I still get every bit
as much enjoyment from Milne today as I did back then. Sigh.

thomas.

PS. Many thanks to my mother for suggesting I run this poem on the Minstrels,
and for typing it out for me (since I don't have a copy near at hand, more's the
pity).

[Bio]

  b. Jan. 18, 1882, London, Eng.
  d. Jan. 31, 1956, Hartfield, Sussex

in full ALAN ALEXANDER MILNE, English humorist, the originator of the immensely
popular stories of Christopher Robin and his toy bear, Winnie-the-Pooh.

Milne attended Westminster School, London, and Trinity College, Cambridge. In
1906 he joined the staff of Punch, writing humorous verse and whimsical essays
in a style that quickly dated. He achieved considerable success with a series of
light comedies such as Mr. Pim Passes By (1921) and Michael and Mary (1930).
Milne also wrote one memorable detective novel, The Red House Mystery (1922);
and a children's play, Make-Believe (1918), before stumbling upon his true
literary métier with some verses written for his son Christopher Robin. These
grew into the collections When We Were Very Young (1924) and Now We Are Six
(1927). These remain classics of light verse for children.

His most popular works were the two sets of stories about the adventures of
Christopher Robin and his toy animals--Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, Kanga, Roo, Rabbit,
Owl, and Eeyore--as told in Winnie-the-Pooh (1926) and The House at Pooh Corner
(1928). Ernest Shepard's illustrations added to the books' charm. In 1929 Milne
adapted another children's classic, The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame,
for the stage as Toad of Toad Hall. A decade later he wrote his autobiography,
It's Too Late Now.

Cottleston Pie -- A A Milne

this week's theme: poems written by fictional characters - metapoets, if
you will.

(Poem #91) Cottleston Pie Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie, A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly. Ask me a riddle and I reply Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie. Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie, Why does a chicken? I don't know why. Ask me a riddle and I reply Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie. Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie, A fish can't whistle and neither can I. Ask me a riddle and I reply Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie. -- A A Milne

This charming little snippet of verse was written by one of my favourite
characters, a Bear of Very Little Brain, Winne-the-Pooh. I remember
having been fascinated by the surrealism of the 6th line from my
childhood days, long ago when all the world and time was young...

... I continue to be fascinated by it :-)

As for what sort of beast a Cottleston Pie is, a search of the Web
revealed only the following URL:

http://www.students.uiuc.edu/~chpeters/cottleston_pie/

Enjoy!

thomas.