Learn More

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

(5 November 1850 - 30 October 1919 / Johnstown Center / Rock County / Wisconsin)

Peek-A-Boo


The cunningest thing that a baby can do
Is the very first time it plays peek-a-boo;


When it hides its pink little face in its hands,
And crows, and shows that it understands


What nurse, and mamma and papa, too,
Mean when they hide and cry, 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.'


Oh, what a wonderful thing it is,
When they find that baby can play like this;


And everyone listens, and thinks it true
That baby's gurgle means 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo';


And over and over the changes are rung
On the marvelous infant who talks so young.


I wonder if any one ever knew
A baby that never played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.


'Tis old as the hills are. I believe
Cain was taught it by Mother Eve;


For Cain was an innocent baby, too,
And I am sure he played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.


And the whole world full of the children of men,
Have all of them played that game since then.


Kings and princes and beggars, too,
Everyone has played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.


Thief and robber and ruffian bold,
The crazy tramp and the drunkard old,


All have been babies who laughed and knew
How to hide, and play peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.

Submitted: Friday, April 02, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Peek-A-Boo by Ella Wheeler Wilcox )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  3. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  4. A Smile To Remember, Charles Bukowski
  5. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  6. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  7. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  8. If, Rudyard Kipling
  9. Sonnet XVII, Pablo Neruda
  10. Christmas Trees, Robert Frost

Poem of the Day

poet Li Po

Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

poet Marvin Brato Sr

[Hata Bildir]