A Smile

A smile can be as lovely as a prayer,
If there is understanding in the eyes;
A smile that says: "I'm glad to see you there,"
A look that whispers something sweet and wise.
Old people often smile like this when they
Have special love and kindness to convey.

A baby's smile, a wee three-cornered thing,
A bit uncertain of its right to be,
Can lift your heart clear up where angels sing
And show you realms unguessed, eternity
Come down and held in crumpled rosy hands,
Frail in themselves yet strong as iron bands.

The smile of friendship where two eyes unite
In friendly gossip o'er a cup of tea,
Where little happenings of the neighborhood
Are told with relish and a kindly glee;
A lover's smile bent to his lady's face
Can make a palace of the meanest place.

The smiles between a husband and a wife
Across a room can tell the world so much
Of living shared and love's redeeming grace
As intimate and tender as a touch.
A smile can be as lovely as a prayer
If there is love and understanding there.

~ Edna Jaques
Back-Door Neighbors

Bessie the Waxes Poetic (or something like that)

I found a little gem at our local 2nd hand bookstore some time ago which is entitled Back-Door Neighbors by Edna Jaques, published in 1946. Edna (1891-1978) was a popular Canadian poet who beautifully celebrated the daily domestic life experience. I know our dear readers will love her poems which we will reprint on Creative Sandwich from time to time.
Enjoy!
Love,
Bessie

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Homey Things

I like an old tea kettle
Sort of singing on the stove;
Petunias in a window-box,
Cerise and pink and mauve;
An old dog dozing on the step,
One eye half opened like;
A little boy a-riding by
On an old red bike.

I like to hear the birds at dawn
Chirpin' for all they're worth,
Digging for worms and bits of green
In the fresh morning earth;
The breakfast fires being lit,
Their smoke ascending high,
Spirals of hope that daily rise
Into the morning sky.

I like a clothesline by a lawn
Where little panties blow,
Where kids with sturdy arms and legs,
Sleep and eat and grow;
The little homes of common folk,
Carpenters, clerks, and such,
The patient workers of the world
Who matter, oh, so much.

A little house with four square walls
A bird-house painted red,
A father going off to work,
To earn the daily bread;
The mother faithful to her task,
A cobbled walk and gate --
These are the things, which, added up,
Make common living great.