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Spring!
Spring had sprung, buds were peeping
Birds were nesting, vines were creeping
She should have been happy, rejoicing with season
But sad she was, without rhyme or reason
She concluded that her house needed cleaning
Get rid of some of the past
The weight lay heavily on her shoulders
Now the task needed to be taken in hand
She searched for deep memories and cobwebs
For serpents, spiders and trash
She hated the guilt and the heartache
Needed sweeping, scrubbing and wash
She swept them all into a corner
Was amazed to see the pile grow up
But she couldn't find the dust pan
So she swept them under the rug
She worried the bulge would be visible
She'd be questioned by everyone
So her favorite chair was placed over it
To hide what she had done
During visits she'd squirm uncomfortably
As she sat in her favorite chair
Afraid that she might be discovered
Beneath the rug hiding her life's lair
Embarrassed, frustrated and angry
She threw open the shutters and sash
Get rid of this garbage that's hidden
"Make me free, make me free" at long last
With hands deeply cupped, she carried them
Out the window they flew with the wind
As though she had offered them to Heaven
As penance for all of her sins
She smiled, eyes glistening and happy
She marvelled at the trees and the birds' songs
She was free from a lifetime of sorrow
She had cleaned out under the rug.
© 2000, Anna Hefele
Books are immortal sons deifying their sires.
~Plato
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The words "volt" and "voltage" are named for a member of the Italian nobility in the 1700s named Count Voltman.
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