Do you remember that little song from the playground game, “Ring around the Rosie” from your childhood?
Ring around the rosie,
A pocket full of posies.
We all fall down!
Now, I wonder if you learned– even as a child, like I did–that this nonsensical-sounding ditty dated back to the bubonic plague decimating Europe’s population in the Middle Ages.
It turns out, the Black Death explanation is apocryphal and didn’t appear until the mid-20th century. Even so, the notion of kids taking notice when the world seems on its way to Hell with an oversized hand basket strikes me as accurate.
I haven’t got a COVID-19 rhyme composed for you today, though I’m now tempted to try my hand at one.
I did, however, have a politically motivated stab at nasty name-calling in verse! come together in my mind over the past few days. While imperfect–and my apologies to the masterful teacher Michael Clay Thompson, whose MCT Langugage Arts curriculum I used with my home educated child in very recent years, so that I now have the vocabulary to describe how weak my doggerel truly is in form and meter–my not-quite-best self still prompts me to post it here.
I’d also like to ask if others can do better. Please, post your own rhyme in the comments, or tweet away!
I feel as if every child in the free world should have such poems on their lips these days. With luck, the wind will carry them across borders to those less fortunate youngsters growing up under dictators.
The literal future of human freedom lay presently with democratic nations around the world who must confront the warmongering by Russia’s “elected” leader and would-be-czar.
Upon seeing the news report of the bombed maternity hospital in Mariupol, Ukraine, on March 9th, 2022, I brought these words together.
I debated posting something so mean-spirited. It goes against the very nature of this blog. Really Wonderful Things tries hard to be a bringer of light, and a force for good, human and wildly imperfect as its author is.
What is Really Wonderful, however, is my right to comment on politics and politicians. God bless America, and hurrah for my freedom of speech! We are not perfect, yet I don’t hesitate to write these words or share them with the world. I am safe, though I express a controversial opinion, and in strident tones.
…killer of babies…
A miracle, frankly, if you know much of history.
How grateful I am that this is so… for me. How deeply I wish everyone shared in this good fortune.
…can’t defeat soldiers…
What I hope to accomplish by encouraging innocents to chant insults aimed at distant autocrats is the absolute, utter celebration of democracy and representation for the common individual.
…so he bombs pregnant ladies!”
Every school kid should know that such a system exists, God-willing, right on his or her doorstep. Every free person alive should be teaching those children the rights and responsibilities of an empowered electorate.
We the people of free nations owe every other human being, potential and living, our efforts toward sharing our ultimate luxury.
The people of Ukraine have made clear their disinterest in being re-shackled to their former Soviet masters. The bravery of those defending their homes should serve as a stern reminder for all who hear the news.
Representation is an inalienable right, but it is ultimately a privilege that must be constantly protected from jealous usurpers. The world will never lack for tyrants, in temperament if not in fact.
I stand with Ukraine.
One thought on “Playground rhymes for our troubled times”
I do not find your rhyme insulting about Putin. I have an image in my brain of the mother and unborn baby that did not survive. It haunts me. Praying for a miracle that Ukraine will rise above the ashes. 🇺🇦