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Showing posts with label FABLES ACCORDING TO ERNESTINE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FABLES ACCORDING TO ERNESTINE. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

(1) MY MOTHER THE POET, ERNESTINE COBERN BEYER

     Experience has demonstrated that verses for children need not have the simplified vocabularies of a first grader’s primer. Poet Rumer Godden was convinced of this fact after reading poetry in schools and libraries for ten years. “Although children may not comprehend the exact meaning of a word,” she said in an interview, “they are able to comprehend its meaning within the context of a sentence or stanza.”
     Muriel Rukeyser, in The Life of Poetry, maintains: “Use the word that is the right word for the occasion, whether it is a one-letter, two-letter, [or] twenty-eight letter word.  Beginning readers have a speaking vocabulary of several thousand words.  If the child has to learn the word, so much the better.”
     There are many words in my mother’s poems that may seem difficult for younger children, but they are the right words. Children thrive on the painless vocabulary enrichment provided by poetry filled with whimsy, fantasy, and amusing word play.

                                              Author photo from The Story of Little-Big
     These three activity books based on Ernestine's poems are available on Amazon: Poetry with a Purpose, Rhyme Time, and Read Me a Rhyme, Please.  The first two can be purchased for pennies, but Read Me a Rhyme, Please costs over $20 a copy, which suggests that teachers and parents held onto their copies -- as I have firmly held onto mine.
                                                                              Ernestine's daughter Barbara  (March 2016)

Here is the link to the poet's biography in Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernestine_Cobern_Beyer
  
     Most of us are familiar with the myths, fables, and legends that have been passed along from one wide-eyed generation of youngsters to the next. Ernestine had a special place in her heart for these imaginative stories, but when it came to retelling them, she just couldn’t help herself: they came tumbling out in verse. 
    You’ll notice that she has a twinkle in her eye and her tongue in her cheek when she gives these classic tales a new twist. For example, her version of Androcles and the Lion.  

Blogger’s note:  The nonsense rhyme below will help anyone (like me) who isn’t sure how to pronounce Androcles and where the emphasis should be:  
                             SOCrates and ANDrocles beheld a hive of honeybees.
                  Said ANDrocles to SOCrates, “Pass the salt and pepper, please.”

   Androcles met an old lion, one day,
     Who was limping, he instantly saw.
  Poor thing! On a ramble, he'd picked up a bramble
That painfully poisoned his paw.

 Androcles ever so gently removed
The cause of the trouble, they say.
        The animal yelped, but the manicure helped,
So he happily bounded away.  

    Many months later, enslaved by the king,
Androcles trembled with fright,
      As he heard a deep roar that he couldn't ignore—
Though he heartily wished that he might.

The king owned a lion, a powerful pet,
 With a hunger both greedy and crude.
  "Andy, my slave," said the royal old knave,
"You shall furnish my lion with food!"   
          
        He opened a cage and the lion sprang out.         
But something was strangely amiss.             
The lion licked Andy as if he were candy,
                             And gave him a welcoming kiss!                                          
             
            "Good friend," said the lion, "I won't eat you up,
   Oh, not that you wouldn't taste nice,
         But one kindly turn rates another, we learn,
      Run quickly before I think twice!"   
                                   
                                                                                                              Grace Lawrence

THE LION LICKED ANDY AS IF HE WERE CANDY.
                                                                    
                                                                               
              

(2) "UNFASTEN MY LOCK, AND IT'S SORRY YOU'LL BE!"


                                                    PANDORA'S BOX

                                       Pandora, my dear, on a long-ago day, 
                 
                  Discovered a box slyly hidden away.

                                   Upon it was written: "Don't tamper with me!

  Unfasten my lock, and it's sorry you'll be!

                                 Ignoring the words which were scratched on its lid,

 She was tempted to peek at the treasures it hid . . .

  And being Pandora— that's just what she did!


  Turning the key in the rusty old lock,  

                                  Pandora was instantly smitten with shock!

For out of that box flew mosquitoes and gnats,

June bugs and hornets and beetles and bats!
          
 But that wasn't all!  There came horrider ills:

                                    Toothaches and Headaches and Fevers and Chills!

                                                   Grace Lawrence
                                Rainstorms and Brainstorms and Measles and Mumps,

                                  Tumbles and Stumbles and Bruises and Bumps!
           
                                       Skin-itch and Spinach and Worries and Fears—

  And even such things, my unfortunate dears,
  
                                    As Wearing Your Slippers and Washing Your Ears!

                                     Just think!  The whole world would be better, indeed,

                                        If only Pandora had known how to read!         
                        

(3) THE WIZARD HAD MUTTERED A MAGICAL CURSE.

(4) SAID CYRUS POPPUS, "WHAT IF HE SHOULD EVER DROP US?"

ATLAS

Long ago, when Wisdom, dears,

Still was wet behind the ears,

The Greeks believed a mighty god

Held aloft the earth they trod,

Held upon his naked shoulders

Temples, rivers, mountains, boulders,

Held the cities and their folk.

(This job was certainly no joke!}

Said a certain Cyrus Poppus,

"What if he should ever drop us?"

Pondering this potent question,

Worry gave him indigestion.

Templeward to offer candles,

Cyrus flew on flapping sandals.

Kneeling there at pious length

He prayed his god would keep his strength.

Ended is this tale, forthwith,

Since Atlas now is but a myth,

Residing, if you care to look,

Within the pages of a book --

Robeless, shoeless, (also hatless),

Patient, persevering Atlas!



                                                                                                            Leo Harrington
                                            

(5) "WELCOME, MY FRIENDS!" CRIED THIS JOVIAL SINNER.



                                                                                                                       Grace Lawrence                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

                                                                                                           

(6) I HOPE YOU WILL NOT SCRUPLE TO ACCEPT ME AS A PUPIL!

THE DONKEY AND THE CRICKET


                                                                                      Grace Lawrence

(7) THEY WENT THROUGH THE MOTIONS OF MAKING THE ROBE.

THE EMPEROR'S ROBE

To a famous old Emperor, long, long ago,

Came two wicked tailors who bowed very low.

"We've come," stated one with a smirk and a smile,

"To make you a robe of unusual style.


The cloth we shall use (oh, it passes belief!)

Is invisible, Sire, to a rogue or a thief!

Only the good and the just and the kind

Can see it, the cloth is so ultra-refined!"

Said the Emperor, being a bit of a dunce,

"Make it at once!"


Those tailors, the craftiest pair on the globe,

Then went through the motions of making the robe.

They measured and cut and they snipped and they stitched,

While the Court and the Emperor watched them, bewitched.


Not one in the palace was honest enough

To say: "There's no robe!  It's a hoax!  It's a bluff!"

Instead, they exclaimed with exuberant praise:

"Never has robe so enchanted our gaze!"


The Emperor thought (and most puzzled was he)

"Everyone's able to see it but me!

I mustn't admit it because if I do,

It means I'm a rogue or I'd see the robe, too!

And so I must use my invalu'ble head,

And pretend that I see it!"  Aloud, then, he said:

"The robe is distinguished!  (Be careful!  Don't tear it!)

And since it's a robe of exceptional merit,

"I'll wear it!"


Well, wear it he did.  Dressed in nothing, complete,

The Emperor happily strutted the street

While two little pages, important and vain,

Hoisted aloft his invisible train.
                                                                                                               Grace Lawrence


Everyone cheered him with fervor and joy

Except little Peter, the butcher man's boy,

Who, having no personal axes to grind,

Stated the truth with an innocent mind.


Cried Peter in wonder unblemished with guile:

"The Emperor's wearing a beautiful smile!

And," he went on in a tone clear and small,

That's ALL!"


(8) IT WAS HATE AT FIRST SIGHT, SO THEY STARTED TO FIGHT.

THE DRAGON AND THE GRIFFIN

A Dragon and Griffin once met long ago,

Each to the other a stranger.

It was hate at first sight, so they started to fight,

Creating much havoc and danger.

The Dragon puffed smoke at the Griffin, of course,

And attacked him with pushin' and shovin',

While the Griffin came back with a furious crack

At the Dragon's interior oven.

 
                                                                                                              Leo Harrington
  
The Griffin was killed by the fire and flame


Exhaled by his foe in their duel;

The Dragon, no doubt, like a candle went out,

For lack of a chance to refuel.



The lesson is plain.  Everybody must learn

To respect and befriend one another;

The Dragon and Griffin would be alive if'n

They'd learned to get on with each other!

(9) SHE PITIED MR. HOPPER WHO HAD SURELY COME A CROPPER!

THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE ANT

Mr. Hopper, strumming daily on his little ukelele,

Exclaimed to Mrs. Ant as he passed by:

"I should think you'd go berserk, ma'am,

Doing all that heavy work, ma'am!

Summer's brief!  Why don't you play the same as I?"
                                                                                             Leo Harrington
Then replied his busy neighbor,

"I would rather play than labor,

But I'm storing food against a rainy day."

When he saw he couldn't stop her,

"Cheerio!" said Mr. Hopper,

"I'll be going, then, upon my merry way!"

Came at last the chilly winter!

Cold, and thinner than a splinter,

Mr. Hopper sought his neighbor's little door.

"I am starving, ma'am!" he blubbered.

"You've a bulging little cupboard!

Prithee, give me but a morsel from your store!"

Well, she pitied Mr. Hopper who had surely come a cropper!

But he perished ere she'd time to bid him stay.

As his tiny ghost departed, Mrs. Ant thought, sorry‑hearted:

"He forgot to think about that rainy day!"


(10) "OBEY ME, SEA, AND HEED MY WORD: FLOW NOT FORWARD!"

KING CANUTE

Beside the ocean's swelling tide
Canute, the king, once wandered --
But suddenly he stopped his stride
And arrogantly pondered.

"All men," he mused, "bow down to me,
But how they'd gasp in wonder,
If I could rule the mighty sea
And hush its voice of thunder!"

His courtiers who strode with him
Encouraged him to try it;
Said they:  "No man disputes your whim,
Nor would the sea defy it!"

With this, "O Sea," cried King Canute,
Your tides I now determine.
Dare not approach my royal boot
Or splash my robe of ermine!

Obey me, Sea, and heed my word:
Retreat!  Waves, flow not forward!"
He paused, abashed, as undeterred,
The shouting sea rolled shoreward.

                                                                                                       Leo Harrington


Then said Canute, as thoughtfully
He sought the palace doorway:
"A greater power commands the sea
Than I, the king of Norway!


  

(11) HIS BREAD TURNED TO GOLD AT HIS VERY FIRST BITE.

KING MIDAS

With a gleam in his eye and with greed in his breast,

King Midas sat counting the gold in his chest.

"I wish," Midas thought, being foolish and old,

"I wish all I touched would at once turn to gold!"


Imagine, my dears, if you possibly can,

The surprise and delight of this miserly man

When Bacchus, that ancient and jovial god,

Granted his wish with a wink and a nod!


King Midas was rather surprised, I suspect,

When the wish he had wished started taking effect.

The floor turned to gold at the touch of his toes,

A fly did the same when it lit on his nose.


His tabby-cat, arching her back with a purr,

Turned into gold when he fondled her fur.

Yet worse was to come!  At the table that night

His bread turned to gold at his very first bite,

While the tea he was thirstily yearning to sip,

Stiffened to gold at the touch of his lip.


'Twas then that his daughter, observing his face,

Cried, "What is the matter?"—and leaving her place,

She kissed him and hugged him.  At once, with a moan

She became a small statue of yellowy stone!

                                                                                                                   Grace Lawrence

King Midas cried out in his grief and despair:

"Help me, O Bacchus!"  The god heard his prayer.

He bade the king bathe in a river's cool water.

With drops of the same the king sprinkled his daughter,

And seeing her stir, he was moved to declare:

"No gold do I want but the gold of her hair!"

Having washed all his troublesome magic away,

He stepped to the shore . . . and the old legends say

The sands of that river are gold to this day!