(Friday, 10/30/20)
(This poem was inspired by the Charles Wysocki print at the bottom of this page.)
Rise at the break of day,
tiptoe passed the master’s way;
find my way down darkened halls,
to the kitchen, my own four walls.
Brew the coffee, toast the bread,
sizzle the bacon, break those eggs.
Quietly though, so not to wake,
the master upstairs for both our sakes.
Open the window so I can hear
the wagon as it’s drawing near.
My palms are wet, my heart starts pounding;
my face is flushed, my temperature’s bounding!
Quietly, open up the door –
walk outside and close the door.
With light escaping from the sun’s rise
I see his heart dancing in his eyes.
Taking me into his arms he proclaims –
to love me ’til the end of our days
and when our days are all used up,
we’ll die together, cuddled up.
At the end of our stolen bliss,
just one last passionate kiss,
and then he’ll be on his way –
now a memory for today.
I forget the milk as I straighten
my cap and my rumpled apron.
Walk back through the kitchen door
and go on cooking as before.
I wonder if anyone notices why
my eyes are bright, my smile’s so wide.
(Except for the child with curious eyes –
it’s nothing that a piece of cake can’t bribe.)
c. Pearl E. M.
See you on Monday when we get back to Little Pearl’s story!
