The Enid Blyton Society

One I loved as a child -

Not Getting Up

This morning I'm really a sleepyhead,
I can't get out of my nice warm bed;
It felt so cold when I put out my hand
That I took it back into Blanket-land!

I'll try a toe - it's gone out to see
If it's warm enough for the rest of me!
Goodness, it's freezing - come back again!
Well, I can't get up this morning, it's plain!

I shall pull up the blankets right over my head;
I shan't get up, I shall sleep instead.
No school for me for a day or two,
I'll hibernate as the animals do.

Oh dear - I've remembered, there's no school today;
It's Saturday morning - I've all day to play!
I must get out of bed, I just hate to be in it;
Where are my things? I can't waste a minute!

That's fanatastic, a really funny poem. Enid had a great sense of humour.

Inspired by this thread I have actually got round to doing something that I should have done a while ago and I have added the original Sunday Times cuttings of both April Day and On Dorset Hills to the Cave. They are not the greatest of photocopies, but I think they are both readable!

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http://www.enidblytonsociety.co.uk/blyt ... perid=3100" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

Thanks for adding those to the Cave, Tony - great to see them. . I'd never read that version of 'April Day' before. Interesting to see it, as its got a similar metre but totally different words.

Yes, thanks Tony! How wonderful to have another 'April Day' poem. I love the last lines in particular:

"How sweet the hour - but swift as swallow flown,
And frail as blossom falling from the tree,
And yet for me
Forever is it held; it is my own."

That bewitching hour of an April day was "held" not only in Enid Blyton's memory but in her poem, so we can experience it too.

Robert, I hadn't read 'Not Getting Up' before as I don't have either of the books in which it appeared. It's very amusing.

As a child I used to like this comical poem from The Big Enid Blyton Book:

Miss Nan Nockabout

Miss
Nan
Nockabout
Wouldn't wash her face,
And everybody said it was
A real
Dis-
Grace!

Mud,
Soot,
And marmalade
Smeared her cheeks and chin,
And nobody would guess she had
A pretty
White
Skin.

But one
Day
The chimney-sweep
Knocked at Nancy's door,
And said, "Oh little maid you are
The one
I
Adore!"

"PLEASE
Say
You'll marry me,
Your face is just like mine,
We'll be a pair of chimney-sweeps,
I think
T'would
Be fine!"

But Miss
Nan
Nockabout
Screamed and ran away,
And ordered twenty pounds of soap
That very
Same
Day!

Nan Nockabout is one I have always liked too, since I first read it in 'My Favourite Enid Blyton Storybook' (which I think was later incorporated into The Big Enid Blyton Book' with several additions.) It has the same layout and rhyme-scheme as the two Binkle and Flip poems, which I've always liked.

I first read 'Not Getting Up' in here -



which was a hand-me-down book from one of my sister's friends.

Another favourite poem from the same book was this one -

Midnight Tea Party

I peeped one night in the playroom,
And I was surprised to see
The golliwog and the teddy
Having their friends to tea!

The clockwork mouse and old jumbo,
The sailor doll and the clown,
And all the dolls from the dolls-house
At the table were sitting down.

Golly had borrowed my tea-set,
And Teddy was cutting a cake,
There were jellies a-shake in the dishes,
And crackers for each one to take.

You think I was dreaming? I wasn't!
Today I found crumbs on the mat,
And jelly in one of the dishes,
And the golliwog's blue paper hat!

Oh dear - I have so many favourites, I'll have to ration myself! One more for today -


A Foggy Day

There's fog today - the world is strange,
The cars and motor buses change
To looming monsters full of eyes
That glare at me in great surprise,
And mutter fiercely as they go
Upon their journeys, grim and slow.
Men are shadows and their feet
Are muffled in the foggy street;
All hunched they go in buttoned coats,
With scarves and mufflers round their throats;
They look like robbers slinking by.
Bicycles have one small eye
That wavers weakly and is gone,
But see, behind is fastened on
Another eye that fierce and red
Says, "Ware the creature that's ahead!"
Everything is strange and queer...
I wish the fog would disappear
And we could have the daylight sweet
Spilling sunshine down the street,
Don't you?

'A Foggy Day' has long been a favourite of mine. It's very atmospheric. With the mention of "shadows", "scarves and mufflers", "robbers" and "bicycles" (with one eye "fierce and red"), I'm reminded of Mr. Goon cycling through a foggy Peterswood!

This lovely little poem is from Poems of the Open Air in Enid Blyton's Nature Lover's Book:

A Calm Day

Blue is the sky, and still are the trees,
Not a leaf stirs in the whispering breeze,
Even the tiny clouds far overhead
Sleep in their places as if they're in bed;
Only the murmuring bees are awake,
As from the flowers the pollen they shake;
Calm is the day, and happiness fills
Valleys and meadows and far-away hills.

I love the feeling of serenity that poem creates, as well as putting us right into the scene, so we can experience just what Enid describes. I often think that was one of her strengths.

I just found a nice little poem in Enid Blyton's Big Bedtime Book, which is quite amusing -

When I Stay With Granny

When I stay with Granny
She gives me jobs to do;
I weed her little garden,
And feed her pigeons too.

I take the puppy walking,
I sometimes pick the peas;
I help to gather apples
Fallen from the trees.

But watering the garden
Is what I like the best.
PLEASE let me do that, Granny,
And you can do the rest!

Here's one I love - "The Friendly Toad" - which was in one of the short story collections I had as a child (Enid Blyton's Stories for You):

I am a toad, a friendly thing,
I eat your slugs and flies,
I know I'm ugly, brown and squat -
But have you seen my eyes?
Just look at them, like jewels rare,
Gleaming in my head,
I watch you with them as I sit
Upon your garden bed.
Please like me, little boy and girl,
I can't help how I grew,
I've got to be a toad, you know,
And you've got to be you!

I love that one, too, Courtenay. I used to read it out loud to my sister every night, and even now I can remember it word for word!

This is an unusual poem for Enid to have written, it was published in the Morning Post on 2nd November 1925:

Song of an Ex-Soldier

When I go hawking with a box
That's full of shilling writing blocks,
And call at every house I see
To ask the folk to buy from me
(Who fought for them away in France,
and since then never had a chance);
They look me up and down and say:
"We don't want writing pads today".

I hear that sentence in my dreams,
And in my thoughts, until it seems
The world is full of closing doors,
And full of folk who've scores and scores
Of writing pads; and sometimes I
Think with a grin of when I'll die,
For when I get to Heaven's gate,
And put my burden down and wait,
I know what Peter's sure to say-
"We don't want writing pads today".

After the Great War many maimed and shell-shocked ex-servicemen, unable to find work, sold items door-to-door, perhaps one calling at Enid's door inspired this poem.

What a sad, though perceptive poem.. I hope if he did call at her door, Enid bought a stack of writing pads - after all she must have used a lot of paper eventually.

Very interesting poem, Kate Mary - quite comical in one way, with a serious message at it's heart, plus an insight into times gone by. I'd never read that one before. It's great to be able to share these poems that otherwise might have gone unnoticed by us all.