Where are the ribbons I tie my hair with? <br />Where is my lipstick? Where are my hose - <br />The sheer ones hoarded these weeks to wear with <br />Frocks the closets do not disclose? <br />Perfumes, petticoats, sports chapeaus, <br />The blouse Parisian, the earrings Spanish - <br />Everything suddenly up and goes. <br />And where in the world did the children vanish? <br /> <br />This is the house I used to share with <br />Girls in pinafores, shier than does. <br />I can recall how they climbed my stairs with <br />Gales of giggles on their tiptoes. <br />Last seen wearing both braids and bows <br />(And looking rather Raggedy-Annish), <br />When they departed nobody knows - <br />Where in the world did the children vanish? <br /> <br />Two tall strangers, now I must bear with, <br />Decked in my personal furbelows, <br />Raiding the larder, rending the air with <br />Gossip and terrible radios. <br />Neither my friends nor quite my foes, <br />Alien, beautiful, stern and clannish, <br />Here they dwell, while the wonder grows: <br />Where in the world did the children vanish? <br /> <br />Prince, I warn you, under the rose, <br />Time is the thief you cannot banish. <br />These are my daughters, I suppose. <br />But where in the world did the children vanish?<br /><br />Phyllis McGinley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunday-poetry-ballade-of-lost-objects/
