Friday, February 29, 2008

My daughter Hilary as a girl used to run around the house with Rosemary's slips on her head. Curiously her daughter Rebecca has been known to do it as seen here. When I was looking at it today suddenly I had this memory for a poem that fit it. I rushed to the Selected Poems of Ogden Nash - I Wouldn't Have Missed It and furiously turned the pages until I found:




THE SNIFFLE

In spite of her sniffle,
Isabel's chiffle.
Some girls with a sniffle
Would be weepy and tiffle;
They would look awful,
Like a rained-on-waffle,
But Isabel's chiffle
In spite of her sniffle.
Her nose is more red
With a cold in her head,
But then to be sure,
Her eyes are bluer.
Some girls with a snuffle,
Their tempers are uffle,
But when Isabel's snivelly
She's snivelly civilly,
And when she is snuffly
She's perfectly luffly.