When I was three, I had a friend
 Who asked me why bananas bend,
 I told him why, but now I'm four
 I'm not so sure...

I was randomly browsing through some children’s poetry when I came across this delightful little piece. It reminds me of Silverstein, or perhaps Milne, in its light-hearted exploration of the myriad little rites of passage that mark childhood. I particularly love the way the poem strikes a balance between seriousness (from the narrator’s point of view) and warm amusement (from a grown up perspective), and how, despite the humour, there’s a revelation that borders on the profound.

Incidentally, the narrator shows remarkable precocity in realising at age four that he didn’t know everything - I think the average age for that particular rite of passage is closer twenty one these days :)

— Martin

Links

Somewhat minimal biography and a review:
http://www.lutterworth.com/lp/titles/whispers.htm