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by Ethel Hueston

Give me my pen,
For I would write fine thoughts, pure thoughts,
To touch men's hearts with tenderness,
To fire with zeal for service grim,
To cheer with mirth when skies are dull;
Give me my pen,
For I would write a masterpiece.

Yet stay a while,
For I must put away these toys,
And wash this chubby, grimy face,
And kiss this little hurting bruise,
And hum a bedtime lullaby
Take back the pen:
This is a woman's masterpiece.

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