I’d love to play all of a day
And dance on sunlit lawns,
But somehow light begins to dawn,
Or shall I say, the sunset comes?
I’d love to sing the glorious songs
And soak in beauteous tones,
But then, alas, reality,
Tells me that duty calls.
I’d love to read a book all day
Or sit by warming fire,
But others call upon my help,
And some – their needs are dire.
The truth, it seems, or partly so,
Is dishes, toilets, mold, and floors,
The cooking, baking, and bed making.
And don’t forget the many tasks
That little ones and spouses ask.
But one can dream, and may it be
That both can be reality,
And even at one time.
Hard work and toil —
And bounteous joy.
clarakatalin 
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