My friend Pat responded to my last blog by reminding me that during the 1940's memorizing and reciting of poetry was common in elementary school. She shared a sweet story about a poem she challenged herself to memorize in one night and how her dad stayed up half the night to help her accomplish her goal.

Not only did we memorize poetry, we were also taught to respect and cherish our books. I remember a teacher giving us specific instructions on how to carefully open a new book and smooth each page one by one so we didn't break the back. Books were not so easily available to children of the middle class in those days and I cherished every single one that I owned and I read and reread each one many times.

One day, something wonderful happened at school. Our teacher, Mrs. De Hart, explained that the school was replacing the old set of World Book Encyclopedias that we had in the library. Rather than throw the old copies away they were going to give each one of us second graders one volume to take home and keep. I remember how excited I felt, standing in line, wondering which one I would get. They must have mixed them up because I wasn't first in line but my book was A-B. When she handed me the book it felt amazing, with its leather like cover and it's substantial weight. I had never owned a book like that. For many years it was one of my favorite books. I soon became an expert on Ants, Alice in Wonderland and The Bells of St. Clements, an old English nursery rhyme.

The Bells of St. Clements

Gay go up and gay go down
To Ring the Bells of London Town

Oranges and Lemons say the Bells of St. Clements
Bullseyes and Targets say the Bells of St. Margaret's
Brickbats and Tiles say the Bells of St. Giles
Halfpence and Farthings say the Bells of St. Martin's
Pancakes and Fritters say the Bells of St. Peter's
Two Sticks and an Apple say the Bells of Whitechapel
Maids in white aprons say the Bells at St. Katherine's
Pokers and Tongs say the Bells of St. John's
Kettles and Pans say the Bells of St. Anne's
Old Father Baldpate say the slow Bells of Aldgate

You owe me Ten Shillings say the Bells of St. Helen's
When will you Pay me? say the Bells of Old Bailey
When I grow Rich say the Bells of Shoreditch
Pray when will that be? say the Bells of Stepney
I do not know say the Great Bell of Bow

Gay go up and gay go down
To Ring the Bells of London Town

Hello, a very short post today. The blog has surprised me with people sharing poetry they like with me and reviving more memories both for readers and myself. What fun this is.

I've been looking for a particular scrap of paper with a short poem that I clipped out of a Redbook Magazine back in the 80's. Yes, children that was 30 some years ago, but as I said, I've kept these little bits through many moves and life changes. I looked in all the places I knew it was but I haven't found it so far. However, I did find another tiny scrap, clipped from another Redbook Magazine, also in the 80's and I like it very much--esp. the third poem.

Three Poems About Friendship From "Cora Fry"

by Rosellen Brown

I have a neighbor
who is always deep
in a book or two.

High tides of clutter
rise in her kitchen

Which lasts longer, words,
words in her bent head,
or the clean spaces

between one perfect
dusting and the next?

*************************

You can do
anything alone
anything but
laugh out loud

**************************

What are friends for, my mother asks
A duty undone, visit missed,
casserole unbaked for sick Jane,
Someone has just made her bitter.

Nothing. They are for nothing, friends,
I think. All they do in the end--
they touch you. They fill you like music.

Excerpted from "Cora Fry" by Rosellen Brown, copyright 1977 by Rosellen Brown, W.W. Norton and Co., Inc. Page 146, Redbook Magazine January 1982

http://www.amazon.com/Cora-Fry-Poetry-Rosellen-Brown/dp/0393044610/ref=sr_1_26?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1359832690&sr=1-26