[1051] Happiness

Title : Happiness
Poet : A. A. Milne
Date : 11 May 2002
1stLine: John had
Length : 16 Text-only version  
PrevIndex Next
Your comments on this poem to attach to the end [microfaq]

Guest poem submitted by M.E. Lasseter, <sweeney_agonistes@>:

Happiness
John had
Great Big
Waterproof
Boots on;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Hat;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Mackintosh --
And that
(Said John)
Is
That.

	-- A. A. Milne


I like this poem because of the simple way it rolls off the tongue. It's
orderly because of its simplicity and non-verbosity.

Robert Fulghum has this to say about this poem in his book Words I Wish I
Wrote: "If you live for a long time, as I have, in the Pacific Northwest,
where it rains all winter long, you cherish the feeling of being warm and
dry and still out in the weather. This poem expresses that sense of
well-being. A child understands. In the quest for God, when you find out
there there is nowhere God is not and that you are as much a part of the
universe as the
farthest star, you have a sense of well-being not unlike the child in this
poem. That is that. I often recited this to my children before a meal or at
bedtime. It's not a prayer. It's a state of being, understood by a child of
six or sixty."

That, I think, is all the analysis that is needed. :)

mel.

[Minstrels Links]

A. A. Milne:
Poem #91, Cottleston Pie
Poem #463, Disobedience
Poem #562, The King's Breakfast
Poem #576, Tra-la-la, tra-la-la
Poem #1022, Buckingham Palace
Poem #1051, Happiness

From: Jeff Berndt <thecraichead@>

There's a saying that this poem reminds me of--I wish I
could remember who said it first: 

"No matter how big your umbrella or how good your raincoat,
when it rains, you are going to get wet."

Thanks for this poem. It cheered me up on an otherwise not
especially good day.

All the best,

Jeff Berndt

From: "Axbey, Stephen" <stephen.axbey@>

I think it's altogether much more analysis than is needed ! 
Specifically I think that God is extraneous to understanding this one, and His appearance here tells us more about Robert Fulgham than it does about AAMilne or his poem.  Sometimes a whale is just a whale.

charming poem though...