Page 64 - 1951

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It started out to be a toil
That rummaging through the soil. Crawling till dirty, head to foot; Looking almost black as soot.
Then through the ground began to shoot Little plants just taking root.
The sun shone on them day by day
nnd warm winds blew the rain their way.
Then after a long, dark, lonely night The little buds opened to the light Looking, around; to and fro they glanced As the wind blew they nodded and .danced.
Then no more was it a toil Fulling the weeds from the soil, But then it became a duty gay
As the flowers brightened up the day. Marian Martin
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