Susie
My daughter Susie, aged two,
Apes me in every way,
For as my household chores I do
With brooms she loves to play.
A scrubbing brush to her is dear;
Ah! Though my soul it vex,
My bunch of cuteness has, I fear,
Kitchen complex.
My dream was that she might go far,
And play or sing or dance;
Aye, even be a movie star
Of glamour and romance.
But no more with such hope I think,
For now her fondest wish is
To draw a chair up to the sink
And wash the dishes.
Yet when you put it to a test
In ups and downs of life,
A maiden’s mission may be best
To make a good house—wife;
To bake, to cook, to knit, to lave:
And so I pray that Sue
Will keep a happy hearth and have
A baby too.
Altre opere di Robert W. Service...
