We're going to have the mostest fun!
It's going to be a club;
And no one can belong to it
But Dot and me and Bub.
We thought we'd have a Reading Club,
But couldn't 'cause, you see,
Not one of us knows how to read--
Not Dot nor Bub nor me.
And then we said a Sewing Club,
But thought we'd better not;
'Cause none of us knows how to sew--
Not me nor Bub nor Dot.
And so it's just a Playing Club,
We play till time for tea;
And, oh, we have the bestest times!
Just Dot and Bub and me.
Carolyn Wells's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Our Club by Carolyn Wells )
- groundnut seller, umoh cyril
- imoremi, umoh cyril
- Palm's Greeting, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- The land of the stars is the land of Sta.., Raymond Sawyer
- enjoy the silence.... in my fart, Jena Crowe
- Over-Ride, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Song, Blessing Ekpe
- Everyone Asks, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- Sooner or later عاجلا ام اجلا, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- The Fools Game, Poetic Lilly Emery
Poem of the Day
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- It Is the Hour, George Gordon Byron
- The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe
- In Flanders Field, John McCrae
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1927)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)