It has been said, that Wednesday’s child is fated to a life of woe.
On this I heartily must dissent.
For I would argue these are words, once spoken by a storied foe.
On facts quite ignorant.
Being one of many such, I take to heart this condemned fate.
Although a middle child of hegdomad, on it’s behalf I will debate.
Wednesday’s child is fair of face.
Bonnie, blithe and all so gay, as good as any, of the week.
Bequeathed by place, dear Wednesday’s child, is graceful to a fault.
Generous, of loving heart, spirited, and open mind.
Wednesday’s child presents it’s best.
A future bright as gold.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This poem was written in defense of Wednesday’s child, ill-fated by a nursery rhyme. : )
“Monday’s Child” by Mother Goose
Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace;
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go;
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for its living;
But the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
Why write? I write because I am: Driven to distraction by the inequities of the society in which we live. Motivated by cruelty, abuse, ignorance and indifference. My intention: To poke, prod and provoke! "Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess." - Oscar Wilde