Song Of India

Maura has come to the rubber age:
Turned, so to put it, a rubber page;
Wants to be rolling a rubber ball,
Wants to be squeezing a rubber doll;
Floats in her bath-tub a rubber fish:
All of her playthings are rubberish;
Chews on a red rubber teething-ring;
And when she goes out for a ride in spring,
A noiseless nurse-maid on rubber heels
Perambulates her on rubber wheels.
And lately a cut rubber cold she took,
And sneezed — God bless us! — like this: “Caoutchouc!”

From Boundaries