Three Nonsense Poems for Hannah and Abigail

by Christopher Merrill

How much mush is too much mush
If you love mush too much?
How much slush is too much slush
If you love slush and such?
Hush, my child, don’t rush to brush
Your mush into the slush.  That’s too much!


Now I will take my ease,
Out in the garden, please,
Among the birds and bees,
Set for my morning sneeze,
Making up rhymes like these:
Tall as the Pyrenees,
Small as a Pekingese,
Wide as antipodes,
Thin as a zebra’s knees,
Bright as a set of keys,
And with such rhymes as these,
Why I . . . Why I . . .  I sneeze!


It’s dark in the park,
And the cat is fat
Bees in the trees
And a rat in the vat.
The cow will meow
At the horse on the course.
But the pig with the fig
And the bat in the hat
Will roll through the hole
Deep into sleep.