Helle van Aardeberg

Lit­tle itsy-bitsy

runs around in circles,

in cir­cles, vexing

out in the corn

lit­tle itsy-bitsy

is rais­ing some­thing up

under the stars

Lit­tle itsy-bitsy

is run­ning in circles,

in cir­cles to a vertex

coun­ter­clock­wise

As dark clouds gather

where the scare­crow hangs

its sullen, weary head

Lit­tle itsy-bitsy

runs around and around

Mr. Johnson’s tractor

will no longer start

Lit­tle itsy bitsy

runs in cir­cles, in circles

out in the corn

Under the laughter

of the mockingbirds

Widow White’s well

draws no water more

Lit­tle itsy-bitsy

runs in cir­cles, in circles

out in the back field

There not a mouse move

nor a blade of grass shiver

Mrs. Jones prize cow

gives no more milk

Lit­tle itsy-bitsy

runs in cir­cles round

rais­ing something

awful naughty.