A perfect poem for my life with five

A friend of mine sent this poem to me.  I first smiled at the fact that I could be known so well by a friend, even one who hasn't met our dear Littlest yet.  Then, I sighed in relief that another has clearly lived intimately with with five young children, survived, and loved it enough to  crystalize the experience in a exquisite piece of poetry.  Motherhood is timeless.

Song for a Fifth Child

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

(1921~    )

Mother, oh mother, come shake out your cloth!
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking!

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby, loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo.)

Oh, cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
But children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust, go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby. Babies don't keep.

Happily Ever,
Queen B