This is a poem which was taught to me* by my grandmother, Clara Belle Aldrich (née Clara Belle Cady), when I was a child:

  There's metre iambic
  and metre trochaic
  and metre that's tender in tone.
  But the metre
  that's neater
  and sweeter
  is meet her by moonlight, alone.

-author and title unknown

Wondering what those words mean?  See metre.htm (or here).

This is a poem which was taught to me* by my mother, Jane A. Asher (née Jane A. Beall, née Jane A. Burton, née Jane Carrier Aldrich), when I was a child:

  Johnny was a chemist's son,
  But Johnny is no more.
  For what he thought was H2O,
  Was H2SO4.

-author and title unknown

* I am Dave Burton.  My grandparents were professors, at Oglethorpe University and elsewhere.  Grandma taught English and Latin, and her husband, my grandfather, Dr. John Abram Aldrich, was an astrophysicist.  Their daughter (my mother) was a chemist, and, like poor Johnny, I am a chemist's son.