‘Eenie meenie, monie my
Bessalooney, boney, stry
Hare, ware, crown, nack
Alko, balco, wee wo wack!’
No classic stanzas laid before us
E’en by master’s hand, can thrall
Cannot thrill us, and implore us
Like that far-off echoing call.
There is throb of joy and frolic
Sweetness of the days gone by
Trembling in each ringing rollic
Of our ‘eenie, monie, my’.
Originally posted 2006-03-10 00:00:00. Republished by Blog Post Promoter