Some Blesséd
Duty
Why should I e'er betray my bed's blanket
To face the frigid frost before my door?
When
Mother Nature had the frankest fit
And plopped a foot of snow, which I abhor?
Oh, some did grovel, beseeched her with dance!
And
still she did ignore their earnest pleas.
Tis clear they with this goddess
had no chance,
Although this weather brought them to their knees.
Yet I, despite this cold, shall boldly rise,
Shovel
and shuffle o'er some path towards work.
I cannot hope from Heaven compromise,
Though I would ne'er some blesséd duty shirk.
Some
seem care not if I this duty love,
Nor if the olive
bough comes with a Dove.
Copyright 2022 Bernard A. Quarterman, Jr.