We like to revisit nursery rhymes,

The rise and fall of a steady beat,

Redolent of much simpler times,

And the pitter patter of tiny feet.

When dad sang those rhymes to me

 As I was perched upon his knee,

My induction into life’s poetry,

I imbibed their rhythms and cadence.

 

‘Oh, the grand old Duke of York,

He had ten thousand men.’

 “I’m making pee-pee, Grandad!”

“And when they were up, they were up!”

“I’ll find the potty; you’ll be just fine!”

And when they were down, they were down!”

 

In a few years, William, you’ll be a man,

With children to raise up, in your turn.

And when they gaze up into your face,

Be sure to tell them nursery rhymes.

Pass on the baton of those stories we learn,

In our multi-generational relay race.