I’d planned to clean the house today

And store all the winter things away,

But a little girl called out merrily

So my task must wait till she is tired of me.

 

I’d thought I’d polish all the floors

And finish a hundred household chores,

But a little boy wanted a story read,

His dinner cooked and his puppies fed.

 

A brown thrush down in the woods nearby

Called me to look at God’s blue sky,

And the warm sunshine, warm in her joyful way,

Begged me with all of her heart to stay.

 

With fields full of clover and apple trees,

The rosy richness of a springtime breeze,

I forgot all the work I’d planned to do

And just loafed in the meadow till the day was through.

 

Why the tasks aren’t finished I can’t explain;

I try to feel sorry but all is in vain.

All the rapture I’ve known I just wouldn’t miss,

For no day will be as happy as this.

 

Edna B. Hawkins