Here we go round the mulberry bush
the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush
Here we go round the mulberry bush
so early in the morning!
Ooh wee!
What a wonderful childhood jingle!
Being able to hear the English and Irish
voices in the words brings me back
to the early days when fairy tales
and innocent smiles were transported
across the pond to the East Coast
where European traditions were deeply
imprinted upon the magical American land
And can’t you see it?
Pleated skirts, bobby socks and saddle denver broncos hawaiian shirt
White shirts, plaid ties, glasses and braces
for the boys
Prancing in a jig,
hand in hand
Pony and pig tails for the little girls
And ah!
Can’t you see it?
The sweetness in their sighs
Life was a ball game
A place to learn the language
Time to sing and dance
And yes it was the best!
Preparation for what would come
in the future
A luscious lollipop…
for everything that would come ahead
Experience was wrapped in bubble gum
And each day a new opportunity
to make a new friend
Life was about sharing
A simple box of crayons
Match box motor cars and a Barbie doll
for the girls
And in the late afternoon
you could do your homework
before you went out to play
A baseball bat, a football
and a hockey stick
And you could even go swimming
or ride your bike to the park
Those were the good old days
when worries were little,
scraped knees were common
and childish crushes had just begun
Cartoons were awesome!
Bugs Bunny, Porky Pig, Yosemite Sam
Mickey Mouse, Popeye and Olive Oil
And Christmas was the season of the year!
Yuletide greetings
Good friends and good will
toward your fellow man
Life was easy then
Follow the Golden Rule
and you would be rewarded
At Easter mounds of chocolate candy
mysterious hunts
and brand new suits
And oh! how pretty and handsome
we all were
In the morning we would grab
a quick bowl of cereal with milk,
a sandwich for lunch and a luscious
meal for dinner
And nothing could beat Mom’s cooking
Whatever she made
came straight from the heart
And on Sunday’s of course it was time for church
fidgeting through the homily
Waiting for the final handshake
to signal the time for the final getaway
A time to put on your sneakers
to get up and walk away
write by Enda
