Saturday, February 28, 2009
This poem reminds me of why I do what I do every day.
I took a piece of plastic clay.
And idly fashioned it one day.
And as my fingers pressed it, still
It moved and yielded to my will.
I came again when days were past:
The bit of clay was hard at last.
The form I gave it still it bore,
And I could fashion it no more!
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently pressed it day by day,
And moulded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when years had gone:
It was a man I looked upon.
He still that early impress bore
And I could fashion it no more.
Posted by Deb at 5:52 PM
Aaaahh...it's Saturday! No work, no school, no schedule to keep. Oh! Wait! A basketball game at what time? 8:30 AM!?! aaarrgh...rush to fix breakfast, down a cup of coffee, rush into the shower, rush out of the shower, rush to get the boys' basketball uniforms out (at least they are clean thanks to Prince Charming). Jump into some jeans, dry the hair and throw it up into some sort of something on the top of my head and out the door we go! I guess it beats being bored! :-)
Posted by Deb at 5:45 PM