When I was but a child of three
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I sat upon my mother's knee
And learned a poem by the way
And then we'd share a finger play.
When I became a mom myself
I took her book from off the shelf
And we'd share poems, kids and I
And fingerplays as years went by.
Now years have passed and life goes on
The grandkids frolic on the lawn.
But when they tire they'll look for me
And we'll recite some poetry.
With poetry and fingerplay
We'll cuddle up and share the day
Although it's hard to find the time
It's still important to share rhyme.
As years advance things start to slip.
The eye may dim, ... more ample hip.
The step will slow except to “go”
And “Oh!” the facts you used to know....
But strange as it may seem today
The fingerplay and poems stay
Within a memory that with ease
Has come to mimic good Swiss cheese.