Poor orphan waves, you have no mother.
You have the sea. You have no other.
I had two poems and I lost one,
So I’m sending the other one to Boston.
Tim tim tip tight,
Clim clim clip clight,
Nim nim nip night
Dim dim dip dight,
Lim lim lip light
Quim quim quip quite,
Zim zim zip zight
Rose Petal Red
“Quack, Quack, Jimmy Jones, Timmy Tom, Mary Maria, Rose Petal Red,” said Sally. “Come, eat rushes.” They did. They were playing they were ducks. Soon after Jimmy Jones fell sick and died. The nine days of mourning were not over when Timmy Tom had the same fate. Soon Mary Maria passed away, and Sally followed. Last of all was Rose Petal Red. On the day she died, her mother dreamed she saw a dry pond, yet on the air four ghostly ducks floated. Then she heard a death wail, “aaaaaah!” At the same moment another duck appeared. “Jimmy! Timmy! Mary! Sally! I thought you were dead!” “And so we are, and you are too!” This was happening. Rose Petal Red had just entered the pool of the dead.