Poet: Unknown
I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse.
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody's house!
There's no one ever sees his face,-
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody.
'Tis he who always tears our books,
Who leaves the door ajar,
He pulls the buttons from our shirts.
And scatters pins afar;
That squeaking door will always squeak
For, prithee, don't you see.
We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody.
He puts damp wood upon the fire.
That kettles cannot boil;
His are the feet that bring in mud.
And all the carpets soil.
The papers always are mislaid.
Who had them last but he?
There's no one tosses them about
But Mr. Nobody.
The finger-marks upon the door
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed.
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill, the boots
That lying round you see
Are not our boots; they all belong
To Mr. Nobody.
Summary of the poem, Mr. Nobody:
This poem offers a cheerful view of the small mishaps and inconveniences that happen in our everyday existence. The Poet introduces us to a mysterious character, Mr. Nobody, who is responsible for all the small troubles we encounter around the house. Despite Mr. Nobody being invisible and elusive, the poem humorously attributes various household mishaps to him, such as broken plates, torn books, squeaky doors, and even misplaced items.
The poem playfully suggests that Mr. Nobody is behind all these incidents, making it a humorous way to explain the little annoyances we often encounter. It reminds us not to take life's minor inconveniences too seriously and maintain a lighthearted perspective.
Poet: Unknown
Anybody could do it
But somebody didn't do it
And in the end nobody did it.
So I asked somebody to do it
And then asked if anyone could
And then nobody did it.
So if anybody could have done it
And somebody should have
That left nobody to do it.
So don't be a nobody
Or leave it to anybody
When a somebody you could be
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
Father asks, "Who did it?"
We all just look stupid
"Not I", says the oldest one
"Not I", says the littlest son.
No one did it, no one at all
Do we laugh or do we bawl?
Father puts his hands on his hips
We think he is going to flip.
But he couldn't help himself
He smiled like a little elf.
"Okay, okay, we have a mystery guest
Don't do it again I request!"
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
Children always be honest
Admit when you've done wrong
It is not always easy
Don't live life headstrong.
Don't say I didn't do it
When you know that is not true
Fess up, confess
Before there is a clue.
Always remember we all make mistakes
But own up to the things
That you have done
Before more trouble it brings.
