Reely's Poetry Blog

By EDGAR A. GUEST (1881-1959)

WHAT is so wondrous as mother's knee?
Where so delightful a spot can be? 
Beautiful garden, where children play, 
Romping and laughing the livelong day; 
There are sung all of our nursery rhymes, 
And little ones have all the best of times. 
A wonderful playground is mother's knee, 
The best place on earth for a child to be. 

What is so wondrous as mother's knee? 
When night comes it's the place to be; 
No longer a playground it is at night, 
But a drowsy cradle, soft and white, 
That gently swings, until it seems 
Like a fairy ship on the sea of dreams; 
Oh, a mother's knee is the place that's best 
When a weary baby wants a rest. 

But age creeps on and we grown-ups see 
No longer the haven of mother's knee; 
When weary and faint with our weight of woe, 
We've no such comforting place to go. 
When night time comes we must sink to rest, 
With our troubled brows still uncaressed; 
And we'd give our all once again to be 
A child once more at our mother's knee.