happiness |
by lydia o. jackson |
the kettle hummed a greeting |
the kitten streched and mewed |
the rocking chair invited |
the baby smiled and cooed. |
the pinafore enveloped |
the mother young and fair |
and toys much loved and cherished |
were scattered here and there. |
geraniums were blooming |
in pots along the sill |
and curtains fluttered gaily |
for they were edged in frill. |
a bowl of bright red apples |
stood upon a shelf of pine |
and fancy cups and saucers |
displayed a rose design. |
bright braided rugs were scattered |
upon a polished floor |
while sunshine streamed through windows |
and also through the door. |
the gingerbread was baking |
its luscious fragrance filled the air |
and the room seemed filled with magic . . . |
for happiness was everywhere. |
used through courtesy of |
the american courier |
kitchen magic |
by violet rouke broder |
when gray days sometimes leave you |
at a loss for what to do |
fill your house with warth and fragrance . . . |
bake a pie, a cake, or two. |
make some heart-shaped sugar cookies |
or a creamy pudding, fine |
a batch of fudge or brownies |
helps to pass the gloomy time. |
a tin of golden muffins |
or some loaves pf fresh-baked bread |
i am sure will be more pleasing |
then some store-bought bread, instead. |
what a thoughtful, cheery greeting |
for your loved ones . . . at the door |
when they sniff your homemade goodies |
wafting welcome evermore. |
