John Peter said at supper That he's leaving us real soon: A beetle swapped him magic For Granny's pewter spoon! So when he finds some foxgloves That slip on nice and neat And a pair of lady's-slippers Big enough to fit his feet -- Then mournfully he'll mumble A magic word, or two: And WHIFF! we'll see him vanish Straight up into the blue! And my! won't we be sorry It makes us all so cross That he won't touch his spinach If dessert's @3just@1 Apple Sauce! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON MY FIRST DAUGHTER by BEN JONSON THE HERITAGE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE ENTHUSIAST by HERMAN MELVILLE LOUSE HUNTING by ISAAC ROSENBERG A COWBOY TOAST by JAMES BARTON ADAMS ENIGMA. TO THE LADIES by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |