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Robert W Service - Nature`s Touch
Work rating: Low

In kindergarten classed
          Dislike they knew;
And as the years went past
          It grew and grew;
Until in maidenhood
          Each sought a mate,
Then venom in their mood
          Was almost hate.

The lure of love they learned
          And they were wed;
Yet when they met each turned
          Away a head;
Each went her waspish way
          With muted damns—
Until they met one day
          With baby prams.

Then lo! Away was swept
          The scorn of years;
Hands clasped they almost wept
          With gentle tears.
Forgetting hateful days,
          All mother mild,
Each took with tender praise
          The other`s child.

And now they talk of milk,
          Of diapers and such;
Of baby bosoms silk
          And tender to the touch.
A gemlike girl and boy,—
          With hope unsaid,
Each thinks with mother joy:
          `May these two wed!`
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