Dr. Do-Diddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog

Dr. Do-Diddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog

Abdul Abulbul Amir, and a little bit more for your entertainment. Enjoy xxx Diddilydeedot in Dreamland.

Abdul Abulbul Amir

 
 

Written By: Percy French

Copyright Unknown

  

    The sons of the prophet were hardy and bold,
And quite unaccustomed to fear,
But the bravest of these was a man, I am told
Named Abdul Abulbul Amir.

This son of the desert, in battle aroused,
Could spit twenty men on his spear.
A terrible creature, both sober and soused
Was Abdul Abulbul Amir.

When they needed a man to encourage the van,
Or to harass the foe from the rear,
Or to storm a redoubt, they had only to shout
For Abdul Abulbul Amir.

There are heroes aplenty and men known to fame
In the troops that were led by the Czar;
But the bravest of these was a man by the name
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skivar.

He could imitate Irving, play Euchre and pool
And perform on the Spanish Guitar.
In fact, quite the cream of the Muscovite team
Was Ivan Skavinsky Skivar.

The ladies all loved him, his rivals were few;
He could drink them all under the bar.
As gallant or tank, there was no one to rank
With Ivan Skavinsky Skivar.

One day this bold Russian had shouldered his gun
And donned his most truculent sneer
Downtown he did go, where he trod on the toe
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir

"Young man," quoth Bulbul, "has life grown so dull,
That you're anxious to end your career?
Vile infidel! Know, you have trod on the toe
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir."

The rest of this wonderful tale can be found at Cydney's Castle.
http://.diddilydeedotsdreamland. zoomshare.com/

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, all the love he has in his heart,.... oops and a partridge in a pear tree. :)

             DIDDILY-DEE-DOT'S DREAMLAND

On the first day of Christmas my true-love gave to me,
A Partridge in a Pear Tree.


On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Two Turtle Doves.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Three French Hens.

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Four Calling Birds.

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Five Golden Rings

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Six Geese a-Laying.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Seven Swans a-Swimming.

On the eight day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Eight Maids a-Milking.


On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Nine Ladies Dancing.

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Ten Lords a-Leaping.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Eleven Pipers Piping.

On the twelth day of Christmas my true love gave to me,
Twelve Drummers Drumming
 - Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords Leaping - Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids Milking - Seven Swans Swimming
Six Geese Laying - Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds - Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

Ayliyah wants to share one of her favourite Winter rhymes for you.

AYLIYAHS LEGENDS

JOHNNY'S FROLIC

Ho ! for a frolic ! said Johnny the stout;
"There's coasting and sledding: I'm going out !"

Scarcely had Johnny plunged in the snow
When there came a complaint up from his toe.

"We're cold," said the toe, "I and the rest;
There are ten of us freezing, standing abreast."

Then up spoke the ear: "My ! but it's labour
Playing in winter. Eh, opposite neighbour ?"

"Pooh !" said the nose, angry and red ,
"Who wants to tingle ? Go home to bed !"


Eight little fingers, four to a thumb,
All cried together, "Johnny, we're numb !"

But Johnny was stout wouldn't listen a minute;
Never a snow-bank but Johnny was in it.

Tumbling and jumping, shouting with glee,
Wading the snow-drifts up to his knee,

Soon he forgot them, fingers and toes,
Never once heeded the ear and the nose

Ah, what a frolic ! All in a glow,
Johnny grew warmer out in the snow.

Often his breathing came with a joke :
"Blaze away, Johnny ! I'll do the smoke."

"And I'll do the fire," said Johnny the bold,
"Fun is the fuel for driving off cold.

SUCH FUN THIS CHRISTMAS FOR EVERYONE.

Here is a lovely poem by Susan Coolidge about Autumn

DIDDILY DEE DOT' S DREAMLAND
 HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN

I'll tell you how the leaves came down
The great Tree to his children said:
"You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown,
Yes, very sleepy, little Red.
It is quite time to go to bed."

"Ah ! " begged each silly, pouting leaf,
"Let us a little longer stay:
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief !
'tis such a very pleasant day,
We do not want to go away."

So just for one more merry day
To the great Tree the leafletsclung,
Frolicked and danced, and had their way,
Upon the autumn breezes swung,
Whispering all their sports among;

"Perhaps the great Tree will forget,
And let us stay until the spring,
If we all beg, and coax, and fret."
But the great Tree did no such thing;
He smiled to hear them whispering.

"Come now, children, all to bed," he cried;
And, ere the leaves could urge their prayer,
He shook his head, and far and wide,
Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
Down sped the leaflets through the air.

I saw them; on the ground they lay,
Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
Waiting till one from far away,
White bedclothes heaped upon her arm,
Should come to wrap them safe and warm.

The great bare Tree looked down and smiled.
"Good night, dear little leaves," he said.
And from below each sleepy child
Replied, "Good-night," and murmered,
"It is so nice to go to bed!"

What a lovely little verse, and this is wrote by Susan Coolidge,

Sarah Chauncy Woolsey who wrote under the name Susan Coolidge, was born in Cleveland, Ohio, on January 29, 1835, she died April 9, 1905. She is also the same lady who wrote all the "Katy Did" story books. A 1990s reading study in Great Britain found the "What Katy Did" series
ranked among the ten most popular reading choices for 12-year-old
girls. The first volumes of the series remain in print in both
countries.

There's nothing like a Daddy. Or a Mummy come to that, both even

Diddilydeedot's Dreamland
 HELLO AND WELCOME ONCE MORE TO SOMETHING NEW

There's nothing like a Daddy

I do not want a puppy-dog, although I know they're nice,
 For my papa can romp with me in ways that quite suffice.
He'll bark just like a St. Bernard, and like a mastiff growl,
And you would feel like laughing when he imitates a howl.



I do not want a pussy-cat. I like them very well,
But Daddy beats them all, and plays better than I can tell.
He'll purr and siss like anything; his mewing you should hear;
It makes more noise than any cat, and, oh, I shake with fear !

I do not want a pony small. Of course they're lots of fun,
But what's the use of babies when you're my dear daddy's son ?
He takes me on his shoulders broad, or puts me on his knees
And sets me off a-galloping as madly as you please.



In short, I don't want anything as long as Daddy's here;
He's pretty much of everything, and don't get out of gear.
And best of all the things boys have, I'm sure you'll find it true,
There's nothing like a Daddy who will always play with you ! ....

.
My beautiful Grand-daughter with Jack my son-in-law