On The Contrary

Rallentanda, I see wrote her own little ditty, which, thanks to the machinations of Blogland, has only just come to my attention. Therefore, I reproduce it here for the delectation of all, together with my reply. I have a feeling that more of you may be tempted to add a few of your own verses, judging on what happened last time I gave you all a chance wax lyrical.

Rallentanda says -

The child that's born on the seventh day
is much worse than the others at play;
she mucks up the hop scotch, doesn't catch balls,
eats all the cup cakes from the school fete stall.
She pulls the cat's tail and sneaks her dad's ale
and then blames her brother or somebody t'other.


On the contrary, says Jinksy -

The child who is born on the seventh day
likes dancing and singing on her merry way,
spreading some sunshine is always her aim
plus helping all others to share in the same.
Life is surely too short to be lonely or sad -
and so Sunday maidens can't be all that bad!

Come on people - join in the fun! If you email me with some of your own creations, I'll go into my blog, and add them here so's everyone can see! Let's get this party started. You can pick on any of the weekdays, positive or negative as you choose. Get creative?

Here's Technobabe now-

The child born a on a Saturday
is born to win and lead the way,
her body and soul ever prancing.
She uses words to join the dancing
and spread the word along the way.
Hooray! Rejoice! Dear Saturday!

Here's Ronda Laveen

I grabbed Monday,
Jumping to the
Head of the line.
Now all the rest
Of you can
Just fall in behind.

Here's Vagabonde

L’enfant née un mardi
est intelligente – pardi!
Elle mange des crèpes pour Mardi-gras
Et fais des exercices à tout de bras.
C’est vraiment une petite moqueuse
Mais elle parle peu – j’en suis heureuse!

And Bernie

I arrived on Tuesday morn
as cute as I could be.
My mother, who was not impressed,
said..."She don't belong to me!"
So I smiled at my Daddy
who held me close with care.
"Oh, yes, she is most surely ours.
Like me she has no hair!"


And Titanium's Domenica

A child born on the seventh day
Is vibrantly alive in repose;
She dances on thinner air, at play
And sees words as colors she knows.
She braids ropes from black sand shores
And waters Silver Sword at crater’s edge-
The world is hers, for where she explores
Sunday tips her hand, painting knowledge

Here's Enchanted Oak

Friday’s child is loving and giving
She finds delight in the act of living
Human beings make her smile
All God’s children are worthwhile
Their laughter is her source of joy
But she’s truly glad she’s not a boy!

I seem to be having problems with posting your verses on this actual Blogpage, so anyone joining in after GMT 3.30pm Monday, please simply write your versions in as a comment, as I'm going gaga editing!