I must begin my life
Once again
By dreaming the impossible.

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How Are You?


All of them know if I have not been fed,
Or I did not go early enough to bed.
Everyone hears if my tea has gone cold,
Or that thing which my customer wants has been sold.
Still I bundle it up, and I take it to You,
Though I know You have always got lots to do.

The sky’s still unpainted, the daisies are closed,
The dawn’s on the boil, blackbird’s song half-composed,
Yet with rapt attention You lovingly stand,
With a broadening Smile and a brush in one Hand.
As if it were Your only important Task,
“How are you?” You earnestly, eagerly ask.


Sumangali Morhall
April 2004



Photograph by Prashphutita
page created by Sumangali Morhall last modified 2006-08-31 03:40 PM

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