Rudyard Kipling (30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)
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A Child's Garden
R. L. Stevenson
Now there is nothing wrong with me
Except -- I think it's called T.B.
And that is why I have to lay
Out in the garden all the day.
Our garden is not very wide
And cars go by on either side,
And make an angry-hooty noise
That rather startles little boys.
But worst of all is when they take
Me out in cars that growl and shake,
With charabancs so dreadful-near
I have to shut my eyes for fear.
But when I'm on my back again,
I watch the Croydon aeroplane
That flies across to France, and sings
Like hitting thick piano-strings.
When I am strong enough to do
The things I'm truly wishful to,
I'll never use a car or train
But always have an aeroplane;
And just go zooming round and round,
And frighten Nursey with the sound,
And see the angel-side of clouds,
And spit on all those motor-crowds!
Read poems about / on: car, angel, fear, child, children
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Great poem. I love it: -)
hitting thick piano-strings. good poem. thanks.
awesome! This is about everything really. Health, life and technology and how we use it to serve our needs. But the bigger impact is that it begs for Reflections on our choice of transportation and the harmful effect on man and nature. Nicely done
Good poem :) i really enjoyed it
I am also asking the same questions as Kevin Straw. I think here Kipling has fallen off his perch. His words here are insipid.
Does anyone know what the connection was beween Kipling, Croydon, TB and R L Stevenson?
Even Kipling was caught by man's inner wish to fly. Though the poem is away from his love of India and his vast knowledge of the region and people.
Childish pleasure is different from mature pleasure which is lasting forever strong or sick or young or old! A realisation of this truth comes after sometime in life! Nice poem!
What a wonderful poem. No doubt a peek into Mr. Kipling's childhood.
Delicious write!