(a local Chicago poet; b.1896, d.1966)
I'm hiding, I'm hiding
And no one knows where;
For all they can see is my
Toes and my hair
And I just heard my father
Say to my mother -
"But, darling, he must be
Somewhere or other;
Have you looked in the inkwell?"
And Mother said, "Where?"
"In the INKWEL?"said Father. But
I was not there.
Then "Wait!" cried my mother —
"I think that I see
Him under the carpet." But
It was not me.
"Inside the mirror's
A pretty good place."
Said Father and looked, but saw
Only his face.
"We've hunted," sighed Mother,
"As hard as we could
And I am so afraid that we've
Lost him for good."
Then I laughed out aloud
And I wiggled my toes
And Father said —"Look, dear,
I wonder if those
Toes could be Benny's?
There are ten of them, see?"
And they WERE so surprised to find
Out it was me!
This was a favorite poem of mine as a can still hear the inflection my Mom read it with. I often think of the first line or two when my kids say they are hiding, so I thought I'd look it up.
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