Poem of the Week 11/10/2008: Sing a Song of Sixpence

Sing a Song of Sixpence

Sing a song of sixpence,
a pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty blackbirds,
baked in a pie.

When the pie was opened,
the birds began to sing.
Wasn't that a dainty dish
to set before the king?

The king was in his counting house,
counting out his money.
The queen was in the parlour,
eating bread and honey.

The maid was in the garden,
hanging out the clothes,
When down came a blackbird
and pecked off her nose!

There was such a commotion
that little Jenny wren
Flew down into the garden
and put it back again

Unknown, 17th Century

For some reason this song popped into my head today, and I thought it's actually a really nice, surrealist, fun poem to put up. One could say all sorts of silly academic things about it, but is there a need to talk about the surprise of the moment, the inherent violence of the children's song exploding out of the pie into the king's face, the role of the Jenny wren... all of that seems kind of funny and postmodern in the face of this little old song.