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People say to me,
"A penny tor your thought!"
And I can't remember thinking;
And I should think I ought.
I wasn't sleeping, either;
I know that, because
I saw things out of my two eyes:
I wonder where I was.
Now I'm back, I see them
Sitting all around;
And the noise together
Makes a purring sound.
But I know something more
Than just awhile ago;
I know something more!—
I wonder what I know.
I like to lie and wait to see
My Mother braid her hair;
It is as long as it can be,
And yet she doesn't care.
I love Mothers hair.
And then the way her fingers go;
They look so quick and white,—
In and out, and to and fro.
And braiding in the light.
And it is always right.
So then she winds, it, shiny brown,
Around her head into a crown,
Just like the day before;
And then she looks, and pats it down,
And looks a minute more;
While I stay here, all still and cool:
Oh, isn't morning beautiful?
