Up to the Ceiling
Up to the ceiling
And down to the floor,
Hear him now squealing
And calling for more.
Laughing and shouting,
‘Away up!’ he cries.
Who could be doubting
The love in his eyes.
Heigho! my baby!
And heigho! my son!
Up to the ceiling
Is wonderful fun.
Bigger than daddy
And bigger than mother;
Only a laddie,
But bigger than brother.
Laughing and crowing
And squirming and wriggling,
Cheeks fairly glowing,
Now cooing and giggling!
Down to the cellar,
Then quick as a dart
Up to the ceiling
Brings joy to the heart.
Gone is the hurry,
The anguish and sting,
The heartache and worry
That business cares bring;
Gone is the hustle,
The clamor for gold,
The rush and the bustle
The day’s affairs hold.
Peace comes to the battered
Old heart of his dad,
When 'up to the ceiling’
He plays with his lad.
Autres oeuvres par Edgar Albert Guest...
