Half-Past-Six and I were talking In a very grown-up way; We had got so tired with running That we did not want to play. "How do babies come, I wonder," He said, looking at the sky, "Does God mix the things together An' just make it-like a pie?" I was really not quite certain, But it sounded very nice; It was all that we could think of, Besides a book said "sugar and spice." Half-Past-Six said -- He's so clever -- Cleverer than me, I mean... "I suppose God makes the black ones When the saucepan isn't clean." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IMPOSSIBLE INDISPENSIBILITY OF THE ARS POETICA by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SOCIOLOGY OF TOYOTAS AND JADE CHRYSANTHEMUMS by HAYDEN CARRUTH MARCH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS OUTIDANA: A DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A DREAM, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE |